Iridescent
by an-extraordinary-muse
Summary: Season Six, my way. It's easy to see change in everyone but yourself. A story about how Booth and Brennan find their way back to each other.
1. Distance and Dealing

**_Author's Note: Hi everyone! Hooray for a new Bones story, huh? I have to say, I haven't been impressed with season six so far. I'm hanging in there, of course, but I'm really hoping B & B get back to being more like themselves soon. Anyway, this started out as a tag for the third episode, and then it just kept going. Set after the third episode, but I'm not really following the rest of the episodes. This is what I would like to happen, LOL! As always, reviews and constructive criticism are very much appreciated! I look forward to hearing what you think. Also, at the beginning of each chapter I've added song lyrics that apply to that chapter. I listen to these as I'm writing - they help my muse. :) And on to the story!_**

**_Disclaimer: NOT MINE. Sad day._**

**_

* * *

_**_You say you're not going to fight_

_Because no one will fight for you_

_and you think there's not enough love_

_and no one to give it to_

_And you're sure you've hurt for so long_

_you've got nothing left to lose_

_so you say you're not going to fight_

_because no one will fight for you._

_ ~ Robot Boy, Linkin Park_

_

* * *

_

Brennan hated running.

She could feel the pressure – almost pain – in the joints of her legs as they carried her forward, her feet pounding out a rhythmic staccato as they slapped the pavement. She hated the act of running, but she understood and appreciated not only the need for it, but the value of running itself. So even though she hated it, Brennan ran.

She knew that there was a small workout room in her apartment building, but Brennan refused to run on a treadmill. She also knew that there was a gym just down the street from her apartment, and another one just a block from the Jeffersonian, but Brennan had never saw fit to become a member or either. Instead, she'd simply put on her running gear and either hit the nearest park, or just run around the formidable grounds that made up the Jeffersonian. She mostly preferred to run in the mornings, before anyone else showed up – she brought a gym bag and showered in one of the showers set aside for staff use. Despite her distaste for running, she had grown rather fond of her morning ritual.

This Wednesday morning was no different. The air was cool but not unpleasant as she entered the homestretch back to the lab. The grounds of the Jeffersonian were still quiet, the only disruption to the stillness the sound of her breathing and the steady beat of her steps.

On most mornings, Brennan felt as calm and still as the environment around her. Most mornings, running was a sure and easy way to clear her mind; she didn't think about work, or murder, or paperwork or even her friends. She just ran.

This morning, however, was not like most mornings.

This morning, Brennan did not feel calm. She did not feel easy or relaxed, and her mind was not blank. Oh no.

This morning, Temperance was thinking about telephones. Not telephones in general, but a specific one: a certain old Bakelite rotary phone that now sat in Booth's apartment. She had tried to banish the image from her mind, had stubbornly pushed every thought away as it came to mind and still the ache was there.

Hannah had taken her advice and made a very good choice. The old black phone was a perfect fit for Booth, one that Brennan could imagine herself getting him. Somehow, that only made the ache worse. She had nothing against Hannah – she seemed a perfectly affable woman, well suited to Booth in many ways. And that made the ache worse too. She could deal with the ache, or had at least promised herself that she would, but the phone … that damn phone.

Brennan wanted nothing more than for Booth to be happy, and if Hannah was what made him happy then she could live with that. The woman had come to her for advice, and she had given it freely. It was only later in the day, after she'd really thought about it (and it was too late), that the ache had really started to set in. The knowledge about the phone was personal, something Booth had shared with her after Pops had gone back to the retirement home. As soon as she had really thought about it, Brennan had felt like she'd given away something that was hers, and private. She had given away a secret – their secret.

The ache had only gotten worse. The look on his face when he'd seen the phone, the way he'd been oblivious to her as he thanked Hannah and gave her a kiss … that was it. She had to leave. She'd said goodbye quickly, and as she headed for the door something inside her was screaming. How could he not see? How did he not know that it was her, Bones, who was displaying the real thoughtfulness? Had he forgotten that he'd ever even told her that story?

Brennan forced the thoughts away. By now she was almost to the front doors, so she slowed to a walk and checked her watch. Just after six in the morning; she had at least an hour before anyone else showed up in the lab. She pulled her access badge out of her armband and turned down her iPod, making her way to the lab doors more from muscle memory than from actual thought. The interior of the building was still mostly dark, but that didn't bother the anthropologist. Or rather, it didn't usually bother her. There were times when she felt a strange tightening in her chest at the thought of being alone in the dark, but she made it a point to ignore those times. She didn't bother to turn on any of the lights, preferring the silence and the darkness for awhile longer. She did turn on the small lamp on her desk when she reached her office, mostly so she could make her way around the room without running into anything. She set her iPod on the docking station that sat on one of the shelves behind her desk and selected an appropriately relaxing playlist before hitting play. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, appreciating the music as the first strains of melody filled her office. Brennan didn't stay still for long, however, grabbing her gym bag off her couch and heading to the showers. There was still plenty of time before the rest of her friends got there – as she made her way to the shower, Bones promised herself that no matter how hurt or confused she felt over the state of things in her life now, no one would be the wiser. She had a job to do.

* * *

Angela smiled appreciatively as she strolled easily into Brennan's office. Although her friend had initially protested over her birthday present, she seemed to get a lot of use out of the thing. She'd tried to tell Angela that she would have no use for such a thing, but Angela had wisely ignored her and insisted she try it anyway. Now, it seemed, Brennan was as attached to her iPod as Angela was to hers.

"Great song, sweetie," Angela commended as she recognized the song

"I find that Leona Lewis has a very pleasing voice," Brennan replied without looking away from her report

"Hodgins would agree with you on that one. What are you working on this early?"

Angela seated herself against the edge of her friend's desk, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of what Brennan was writing. She was not surprised to see the Medico-Legal letterhead at the top of the page – what else would Brennan be working on at seven in the morning? She'd always been a workaholic to an exaggerated degree, and Angela worried that it was only going to get worse now that Booth had seemingly lost his mind.

"I'm just trying to catch up on some paperwork," Brennan answered, finally looking at her friend, "getting everything in the lab back to a fully operational status."

"Yeah, you just sounded like one of those people from Star Trek, Bren," Angela said with a wry smile

"I don't know what that means, Ange."

"Star Trek. Ya know, the TV. show with Captain Kirk and Spock and …" Angela trailed off when she saw that her friend was only growing more confused. She switched tactics. "You and me, sweetie, we're going shopping today after work. You're going to spend some quality time with your best friend, and we are going to buy you a television. Among other things."

"No, Ange, I do not need a television. It would only distract me and negatively affect not only the quantity but the quality of my work," Brennan protested

Angela crossed her arms and fixed her friend with a half stern, half indulging smile.

"What are you listening to right now, Bren?"

"My iPod."

"And who insisted that you have that iPod?"

"You did. Don't you remember giving it …"

"Yeah, Sweetie, I remember. I'm making a point. You like the iPod – trust me a little, would ya? T.V. is not your enemy."

"Very well," Bones acquiesced, making Angela smile

"So what are we working on today?" Angela asked, changing topics

"I've had Wendell bring up a set of remains from bone storage. We don't have an active case at the moment."

"Speaking of cases, have you heard from Booth lately?"

"I haven't talked to Booth in nearly three days," Brennan answered, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could manage

Angela gave a low whistle and shook her head. Brennan was a master at keeping things to herself (especially when it came to the emotional side) but Angela had had many years to brush up on her Brennan reading skills. She was now so adept at reading her friend, in fact, that even though she was trying to hide it Angela could see the hurt lurking beneath those ocean blue eyes. She felt sympathy for her friend and irritation at Booth simultaneously, and her pregnancy hormones only seemed to amplify both. Angela could think of many ways she would like to fix the situation – most of which consisted of some stern talking to Booth to let him know just how monumentally idiotic he was being. She refrained, however, because she could tell that Brennan was truly trying to be supportive of her partner, no matter how much it was hurting her to do so. Angela figured that if her friend could be the bigger woman, then Angela should do her best to be one as well; even if Booth did deserve a good beating.

Brennan was trying not to dwell on it. She'd been doing her best all week not to read too much into the marked absence of her partner, telling herself that it was only natural that there should be distance between them now that he had a serious girlfriend. This was simply one of the many changes that she was going to have to get used to now.

Brennan's musings were interrupted by the sharp trill of her desk phone. She answered it quickly, only half noticing as Angela slipped away to let her have some privacy. Her mind was on other things as she listened to the voice on the other line, and her responses were automatic. The call wasn't really important anyway: her publisher was "just checking in" to see how her latest book was coming along. She managed to give a few answers, then found an excuse to hang up. Dealing with her manager gave her a headache.

She hadn't been off the phone for more than five minutes when Wendell knocked and stepped into the office.

"I've brought the remains from limbo, Dr. Brennan," He informed her, "I've set them up on the forensic platform. Would you like me to get started, or should I wait for you?"

"Just let me sign this, Wendell, and we can get started."

She added a hurried signature to the bottom block of the form she'd been filling out when Angela had come to talk to her. She was eager to bury herself in work; the restless, uneasy feeling she'd been trying to shake all morning refused to go away, and she was unnerved. She needed something to get her mind off of Booth and all the things in her life that just didn't seem to make sense anymore. She needed to take a step back and get everything under control again, and without Booth there to reel her in she figured she wouldn't have a problem. He was so engrossed in Hannah and their new relationship that he wouldn't even notice the absence of his partner.

Brennan stood and slipped her lab coat on over the dress she'd worn today, then followed Wendell to the platform. Her student took up post across the table from her, and they were silent as they each pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Brennan's eyes were already roving over the bones that had been carefully laid upon the table. Already she knew that these bones belonged to a male, no more than thirty five years old at the time of his death.

"What do you see, Mr. Bray?" She asked

Brennan let the rest of the world fade away as she listened to Wendell tell her everything he could about the bones before them. All thoughts of Booth or telephones or uneasiness faded from her mind as she focused on the task at hand. Nothing mattered to her now, nothing except finding out what happened to the man that lay before them.

Hours slipped past. She let Wendell go to lunch sometime around noon, but she kept working. Angela came to bug her about eating not long after that, but Brennan would not be swayed. She made an excuse, saying that she would eat later, and only after promising her friend several times that she really would eat did Angela leave.

One-thirty found Brennan still perched over the set of bones, staring intently at the right distal phalanges when the sound of footsteps coming up the platform stairs behind her reached her ears.

"I told you, Ange, I'll eat later," She said automatically

"You haven't eaten yet?" A different voice asked

Booth's voice almost made her catch her breath. She considered turning around, then decided against it. She felt a little childish, but if he could go a full three days without so much as calling her, then she could certainly refrain from giving him her full attention now.

"I'm busy," She answered coolly

"I can see that," He said easily, "But you still need to eat, Bones."

Brennan felt irrationally irritated. He ignored her for three days, then just decided to show up unannounced in her lab and tell her to eat in that same caring voice he always used when he was being nice? What did he care whether or not she ate? She made no response; part of her felt guilty for the angry thoughts running rampant through her mind. She couldn't fault him for wanting to spend time with his girlfriend. She simply had to realize that she no longer had such a large part in his life now, which would certainly mean that they didn't spend as much time together.

Behind her, Booth took a minute to look over his partner. He couldn't see her face, but he could see tension between her shoulder blades. Her movements were easy, graceful, like they always were. He wasn't happy to hear that she hadn't eaten yet, despite Angela obviously having prodded her to do exactly that. He did not miss the coolness in her voice when she answered him, but he could make no comment. He had been the one to avoid talking to her for the last few days – of course she would feel irritated with him. He'd thought about whether or not he should explain himself on the drive over, but decided against it. What would he say? "Hey, Bones, I really missed you but I tried not to?" Yeah, right. That sounded just as bad as "Hey, Bones, I know we talk everyday but I just don't know how to balance spending time with you and spending time with my girlfriend". That sounded even worse, so he just opted not to say anything at all.

"We have a case," He said instead, keeping his tone friendly

"I'm already in the middle of something, Booth," She shot back

"Yeah, but I'm sure he's been dead for awhile. A little longer won't hurt him. C'mon, we've got a crime scene to go to."

She hesitated, then straightened and pulled off her gloves. She could do this; this was a case, just like the hundreds of other cases they'd worked on together. This was routine for them, this is what they did. What did it matter if she was starting to feel like she was losing a friend? What did it matter if she wasn't sure how to talk to him anymore? All that mattered was that there was a murder to solve, and a criminal to find.

"Let me get my coat."

* * *

The sun, already past its zenith, was behind her and warming her back through her clothes as she knelt down to look at the body. They were on a nature trail in one of Washington D.C's national parks; the body had been found half hidden under a layer of underbrush and dirt. A jogger had tripped over a length of femur that had most likely been dug out by animals.

"Talk to me, Bones," Booth called as he walked away from the county sheriff and towards her

"Victim's female. No more than thirty years old when she was killed."

"How long has she been dead?"

"Judging by the rate of decomposition … three weeks. Hodgins can tell us more once he's had a chance to look at particulates. There are several bone fragments in the dirt around the right hand – I think the remains have been chewed on."

"Let me guess: send it all to the Jeffersonian?"

"Yes, I think that is the wisest course of action," She agreed

Booth called instructions over his shoulder to have it all packed up and sent to the lab, but Brennan had already stood and was making her way back to Booth's SUV. The ride to the crime scene had been mostly quiet, leaving her feeling even more uneasy than she had already felt. She had debated over whether or not to ask Booth if he was mad at her for something, but she couldn't think of any reason that he would be. The last time she had talked to him before this they had parted ways easily, if a little awkwardly.

She pulled the passenger door open with a little more force than she'd intended to. Brennan felt confused; she hated feeling confused. She hated feeling like she was missing something, like there was something that she should have figured out.

Bones was just sliding into her seat and pulling out the seatbelt when the driver door opened and Booth popped in to the seat.

"Geez, Bones, you took off fast," He said congenially, starting the vehicle, "Everything okay?"

"That depends on what you mean by everything, Booth."

"Are you okay, I mean."

"I'm fine," She answered automatically, "I'd just like to get back to the lab and get to work on identifying the victim."

Booth said nothing, navigating his way off the dirt path and back onto the road. He glanced at his partner out of the corner of his eye: she sat perfectly still, eyes trained on the view outside the front window. He tried to think of something to say, but everything sounded so stupid when he said it to himself silently. Everything felt so complicated now, he just didn't know where to begin.

"How's Hannah?" Bones asked then, breaking the silence

"She's good," Booth responded evenly, wondering why the question hurt him to hear

"That's good to hear," Brennan said, feeling stupid and wishing she hadn't asked

"Look, Bones," Booth started, suddenly feeling like he would explode if he didn't explain, "I'm sorry that I haven't called in the last few days."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Booth."

"Yes I do. You and I talk all the time, Bones. I wasn't trying to avoid you, and I'm not mad …"

"It's perfectly understandable that you have better things to do with your time than talk to me now, Booth. I don't need an explanation," She interrupted, not ready to hear his excuses

"Better things to …? Is that what you think, Bones, that I don't want to talk to you?" He asked, glancing toward her

"I didn't say that. However, it is perfectly natural that you and I would converse less now that you are in a committed relationship."

"I hurt your feelings," He said in a matter of fact way

"What? Don't be ridiculous, Booth," Brennan huffed, "Of course you didn't hurt my feelings. My life does not revolve around whether or not I talk to you every day."

"I know you, Bones," Booth continued, ignoring the jibe in her words, "I know you start talking like that when you're feelings have been hurt, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, I just … I didn't know what to say."

His voice got softer toward the end of his statement, but Brennan felt as if he'd been screaming. She kept her eyes trained on the road as he turned into the parking garage at the Jeffersonian. He didn't know what to say? That confession hurt almost as much as being ignored for the last three days. They were friends, partners; they'd shared nearly everything in their six years together and he didn't know what to say to her? Booth, the heart person, the one who was great at reading people and forming relationships with nearly everyone, and he didn't know how to talk to _her_? What could she possibly say to that? She knew that things had changed between them, that they were only going to continue to change, but surely they hadn't changed _that_ much?

Booth pulled into a parking space and didn't even have time to shut off the engine before Brennan was unbuckled and nearly leaping out the door.

"I'll call you when I have something," She said quickly

"You don't want me to come in with you?" Booth asked, taken aback

"There's nothing for you to do right now," She rationalized, "It'll take us a little while to sort through everything and do the tissue markers for an I.D."

"Are you sure, Bones?" Booth asked, although he wanted to insist on going in with her

"Have a good night, Booth."

The sound of the car door closing sounded like a thunderclap in his ears.


	2. A Painful Irony

**_Author's Note: Two chapters right off the bat! Yay me! I actually had an easier time writing this chapter than the last chapter, but I'm not sure how I feel about either of them. Let me know what you think. :)_**

**_

* * *

_**

_I wanna run away from love, this time I have had enough._

_Every time I feel your touch, I'm broken._

_Shattered all the pieces and parts_

_Never thought I'd fall so hard._

_I'm putting back together my heart, it's broken._

_ ~Broken, Leona Lewis_

* * *

Booth pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. The day was only half over and already he had a headache. He'd spent most of his morning going over the report and findings that Bones had sent him that morning. He'd apprehended the suspect's husband and brought him in for questioning; he now sat waiting in the interrogation room. Booth had told Bones that he would wait for her to start the questioning. He'd offered to pick her up, like he usually did on their cases, but she'd refused and said that she was fully capable of driving herself. She hadn't even left him time to argue; now he was just waiting for her to get there.

He sighed and set the report down. He'd already read it, and he couldn't focus now anyway. He was preoccupied with the strain that was becoming evident in his relationship with Bones. They had argued before, they'd had their differences, but it'd never been like this before. He'd never felt so cut off from her before, and they weren't even fighting. He would've actually preferred fighting to whatever this was. He had been wrong not to talk to her, he saw now, but he just hadn't known what else to do. He'd never had to deal with this before; everything had changed so quickly. One moment he'd been telling her he wanted to give "them" a shot, and the next he knew he was in the desert with Hannah. That was certainly not the way he'd seen things working out. He also hadn't expected to care about Hannah as much as he did, and now here they were, living together and trying to make their relationship work in the real world.

His office door pushed open and he glanced up, gaze locking with Brennan's as she stepped into the room. She looked tired and a little uncertain, and he felt a pang in his chest as he wondered if either had anything to do with him.

"Hey, Bones," He greeted with a smile

"You have the husband in custody?" She got right to the point

"Yep, he's waiting for us right now in the interrogation room. Brian Perdue, McKenna's husband of six years. We picked him up at their home early this morning."

"Does he know his wife is dead?" She asked as Booth stood and they made their way down the hall

"Well I haven't told him, so I'd be surprised if he did."

They paused for a moment outside the door to the interrogation room. He glanced at his partner and did not miss the somber expression that had settled over her features. With a steady breath he opened the door and they swept into the room, Brennan taking her seat as Booth threw the folder he'd been holding onto the table in front of the husband. The other man was standing rather than sitting, arms crossed as he paced behind the chair.

Brian Perdue was a tall, lanky man with short dark hair and clear blue eyes. He was obviously distraught, his eyes red rimmed from what she did not have to guess were tears. His facial structure reminded her somewhat of a younger Russ, and she suddenly missed her brother. She shoved the feeling away and focused on the interrogation.

"Have a seat, Mr. Perdue," Booth said evenly, taking his seat while the other man did the same

"Did you find McKenna?" Brian asked, voice thick

"I have a few questions I'd like to ask you, Brian," Booth continued, ignoring his question, "Where were you three weeks ago?"

"I went home to see my mother," He answered, "I just came home from deployment last month, so I took some leave."

"McKenna didn't go with you?"

"She tried, but her boss is an asshole and wouldn't give her the time off work. Where's my wife? Something happened to her, didn't it? She wouldn't just not come home."

Brian started to jog his leg up and down in a nervous habit, much like she'd seen Booth do in their sessions with Sweets when he was uncomfortable or impatient. Not for the first time she surmised that Brian was probably a smoker, and the habit probably had as much to do with needing a cigarette as it did with being nervous.

"Who reported your wife missing, Mr. Perdue?" Booth asked

"I did. She went for a run early Saturday morning and never came back. I called the police after a few hours, but they said I had to wait like 72 hours or something before it became a missing persons."

"How long were you deployed, Mr. Perdue?" Brennan asked

"Six months. Why?" Brian queried

"How did you know your wife went missing, Brian?" Booth questioned, without answering, "You were gone six months. How did you know that your wife didn't just meet someone else?"

Brian's eyes narrowed, but she wasn't sure if it was in anger or defense.

"You're not married, are you, Agent Booth?"

"No, I'm not," Booth answered

"I can tell. McKenna came from a broken home; her parents were horrible to each other. It took me four years of dating before she'd even agree to marry me. I promised her that we would never be like her parents. I told her that I would never give up on us or our marriage. We planned to dance the funky chicken on our fiftieth wedding anniversary. That's how I know McKenna wasn't cheating on me, Agent Booth. Because you don't just promise someone you love forty or fifty years and then give up when things don't go the way you planned."

Next to him, Booth felt Bones go completely still. Even he could not manage to take a breath: it felt as if all the oxygen in the small room had been sucked out. His throat felt instantly dry, and the sound of his blood pumping in his ears was like the steady beat of war drums. God was punishing him; there was no other explanation. Out of all of the things that this man could have said, all the ways that it was possible to describe what he was trying to say and he had magically picked that phrase? The man may as well have reached across the table and kicked him in the gut.

For her part, Brennan stayed perfectly still. She could feel the beginnings of tears pricking at the back of her eyes and clenched her jaw, willing them to go away. She kept her face as impassive as was physically possible, and avoided looking at Booth at all costs. There was no way Brian Perdue could have known what his words would do and the emotion they would provoke, just like there was no way she could have prepared herself for it. She pushed the words away, denied the litany they tried to take up in her mind and instead refocused on their suspect.

"Just tell me what happened to my wife," Brian pleaded, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, "I know something's wrong."

He glanced from Booth to Brennan, and she could see the moment he figured out why he was here. The color slipped from his face as if someone had pulled the plug on a drain, and his wide blue eyes filled immediately with furious tears. Seeing his pain, on top of the very deep pain that was her own, brought two stray tears from Brennan's eyes that she did not bother to wipe away.

"McKenna's dead, isn't she?" The young man whispered

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr. Perdue," Brennan said quietly

"What happened to her?" He managed to ask

"Your wife was murdered, Brian," Booth finally managed to say, his voice gravelly and strained, "Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your wife?"

For several long moments Brian was beside himself. The tears fell relentlessly down his pale white cheeks, and he shook his head several times as if he just couldn't grasp what was happening. Brennan didn't think that he had murdered his wife, although they had no definite evidence to prove that he hadn't. Without knowing why she did it, Brennan reached across the cold metal table and put her hand on Brian's forearm, drawing his attention to her.

"We're going to find the person who did this, Brian," She said in a soft voice, "We're going to find him, but we need your help. Was there anyone that would want to hurt your wife? Someone at work who she didn't get along with, maybe?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess. Like I said, her boss was an asshole, but I don't think he had anything against her really. There was another woman though … Jamie. I think her name was Jamie Steffen."

Brennan managed to give him a weak smile, then squeezed his arm before retracting her hand. Booth asked him a few more questions, but Brennan did not hear what they were. She felt unbearably shaken, as if hearing Brian repeat words so close to the ones Booth had spoken to her had broken something fragile within her. She couldn't say why she felt that way, but it made the ever present ache in her chest flare and hurt all the more.

"Bones."

His voice snapped her out of her musings. She glanced up at him by reflex, only to realize that Brian Perdue had already left. They were alone in the interrogation room.

Booth was standing no more than a foot away from her, yet he felt as if he were looking at her from across a great chasm. He knew that Brian's words had not been lost on her, and he wanted to say something to ease the tension that nearly crackled around them, but nothing came to mind. He'd always been the one to ease situations like these, and yet he was finding that he was coming up short: a common pattern for him lately.

Brennan cleared her throat and stood up, looking away from her partner.

"Do you think he did it?" She finally managed to ask as they left the room

"I don't think so, but we'll follow up on a few leads," He replied, thankful that she had saved him from finding something to say, "I'll make a few calls, see if this Jamie Steffen person really exists. I'll follow up on a few of the smaller leads, but I'm trying to get out of here early tonight. Rebecca's letting me pick up Parker and have him for the night."

"That's great, Booth," Brennan replied, her tone full of the first sign of warmth he'd heard from her in several days

"He still does the science program at the Jeffersonian after school, so I'll be picking him up from there later on. I'll swing by if I find anything out."

"Don't worry about it," She shot back, "I know you don't get to spend a lot of time with Parker. Take him home, have fun. You can tell me about the case tomorrow. Tell Parker hello for me."

"Sure, Bones."

He hesitated for a minute before turning towards his office, watching her walk down the hall and hit the elevator button. They'd felt like themselves again for just a moment there, and not for the first time he found himself wondering how things had seemed to change so drastically.

* * *

Brennan was writing furiously, her pen whisking back and forth across the paper as she scribbled down her notes. She had thrown herself into her work again as soon as she'd stepped foot in the lab doors after the interrogation. Anything to keep her occupied, anything that didn't give her enough time to think about what Brian Perdue had said.

She glanced away from the paper long enough to look at her clock. Nearly four in the afternoon; outside her office, the lab was just beginning to shut down. People were working their way to the door on their way home; Brennan ignored them and went back to work.

She had no idea how long she sat there writing. She probably would have been there well into the evening, lost in her thoughts and note writing if it hadn't been for a very unexpected interruption.

"Hi, Bones!" A bright voice said

Brennan's head shot up in surprise. She glanced to her door and found Parker, backpack slung over one shoulder, grinning happily at her.

"Hi, Parker," She said easily, unexpectedly happy to see the boy, "What are you doing here?"

"Max let us go early. My dad won't be here to pick me up for a little while, and he always tells me that I can wait with you if he's ever late."

"You don't have to stand out there, Parker, you can come in here," She said with a smile, "Would you like me to call your dad and tell him to come get you?"

"Not really," He said honestly, setting his bag on the floor and sitting on the couch, "I haven't seen you since you came back from Jamaica."

"Indonesia. I wasn't in Jamaica, I was in Indonesia," She corrected automatically

"Really? Cool," Parker gushed, grinning

"Well, what would you like to do while we wait for your dad?" She asked, unsure of how she could keep the young boy occupied

"Do you have any playing cards?" He asked hopefully

"Let me check."

Brennan opened the bottom drawer of her desk and sifted around for a minute, then held up a deck of blue playing cards in triumph.

"Awesome! Let's play Go Fish."

"I'm not familiar with that game," Brennan admitted, leaving her chair to take up a seat next to Parker on the couch

"You talk funny, Bones," Parker said seriously, but then he grinned, "I like it."

"Thank you, Parker. So, how do we play this game?"

Parker explained the game better than she had expected for a nine year old. Within ten minutes they had a game well under way, and despite the rather simplistic nature of the game, Brennan discovered that she actually liked it. She was genuinely fond of Parker, and the older he got the more he reminded her of his father. He was a very intelligent child with a very big heart.

"Do you have any threes?" Parker asked

"Are you cheating?" Brennan joked, faking a huff of indignation as she handed over the card in question

"Nope," He answered, laughing, "I'm just really good."

"It's also one of his favorite games," Another voice said from the doorway

Brennan glanced over her shoulder to see Booth silhouetted in the doorway of her office, a lopsided grin on his face. She smiled at him, the pain and awkwardness from earlier in the day forgotten.

Booth gave her an answering smile and stepped into the office. He'd been watching them from the doorway for a few minutes before he'd said anything, loathe to interrupt the good time they were obviously having. Bones was perched on the edge of her couch, a small pile of matched cards next to her. Parker sat cross legged on the top of her coffee table across from her, a larger pile of cards next to him. Parker was laughing every few seconds; Booth had forgotten how much Parker liked Bones, and she him. Bones was a hit with all the Booth boys, apparently: Pops loved her, Parker thought she was great and he … well.

"What have I told you about sitting on coffee tables, bud?" Booth scolded half heartedly

"But Bones doesn't mind, do ya, Bones?"

"No, but I didn't know that you didn't want him to," She said to Booth, as if in explanation

"It's okay," Booth said, chuckling, "It just drives his mom crazy. How was school, Parks?"

" Pretty good," Parker said simply, standing and gathering his cards for Brennan

"You ready for dinner?" Booth asked, ruffling his son's hair, "Hannah's making a casserole."

"Yuck," Parker said quickly, sticking his tongue out, "Can't we go to the diner with Bones? We eat with Bones all the time."

Just like that the awkwardness was back. Brennan was surprised by Parker's reaction, and she could see that surprise mirrored on her partner's face. She had never really asked, but she supposed that Parker and Hannah had not interacted much. A fact that made her feel strangely better, although she couldn't say why.

"Be nice, Parker," Booth said sternly, "Hannah is working hard to make us dinner."

"But I just don't see why we can't eat with Bones. I never get to see Bones anymore," Parker complained, picking up his backpack lethargically

"You can come see me every day after your science program if you want," Brennan offered, trying to appease the boy and alleviate the situation

"Promise?" Parker asked, perking up a little

"Promise," Brennan answered, grinning, "Now be good for your dad and go enjoy dinner."

"Okay," the boy agreed grudgingly, headed for the door

When Brennan looked back up at her partner, he had the most unfathomable look in his eyes. She wasn't the greatest at reading people, so she couldn't really say what it was, but it made her heart skip a beat. She had tried not to let on to how much it hurt her to hear Parker asking to spend time with her instead of his dad's girlfriend, and for a second she wondered if Booth had caught on. The look was gone though, and instead he just whispered a quick "thank you", which she answered with a small smile.

"Night, Parker," She called

"Night, Bones!" He answered

"See you tomorrow?" Booth asked as he followed his son to the door

"Of course," She said simply


	3. No Pretending

**_Author's Note: HAHA! Chapter Three! Let me just say that although this chapter is shorter than the others (I think), I really love this one! I put a lot into it; it's the most emotionally charged chapter so far, in my opinion. I hope you guys like it as much as I do. :) Also, thank you to everyone that has reviewed, favorited or alerted this story! You guys rock! Keep it coming. :)_**

**_IMPORTANT: Checkerbox is the name of the karaoke bar in Wannabe In the Weeds, where Booth gets shot. Yes it is important for you to know that. Now on with the reading. :)_**

**_

* * *

_**

_Clouds of sulfur in the air_

_Bombs are falling everywhere_

_It's heartbreak warfare_

_Once you want it to begin,_

_No one really ever wins_

_In heartbreak warfare._

_ ~Heartbreak Warfare, John Mayer_

_

* * *

_

Booth threw the file he'd been holding down on his desk and leaned back in his chair. Irritation tangled with a headache and made him grouchy and restless, a dreadful mix of negative feelings that made him want to bite someone's head off. There was no reason for the irritated restlessness – it had come upon him suddenly and without warning, which only pissed him off more.

Nothing had come from any of the leads he'd followed up on so far. Brian Perdue's alibi had checked out, so it was looking like he was going to be off the hook. Jamie Steffen, the woman McKenna had not gotten along with, seemed bitchy and spoiled but innocent. He was running out of ideas; nothing in this case seemed to make sense, and the connections he was usually so good at making seemed to be eluding him completely. He felt as if he were unbalanced somehow, as if a critical part of his life's equation were suddenly missing. The feeling showed no signs of abating any time soon, either.

Booth stood from his office chair and paced behind his desk. His suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair, his tie loosened ever so slightly to let in more air. He rubbed his eyes and felt them burn, an after effect of spending the majority of his day staring at computer screens and case files. He'd only talked to Bones once today, but their conversation had only left him feeling even more restless. She was civil, but the glaring difference in her personality was painfully obvious even over the phone. She was distant, as if she had removed herself from their friendship and any sort of closeness. He felt as if they were back at square one, back to the way things had been during their first year together. All the familiarity and friendship that they'd worked so hard to foster seemed to have slipped away like a thief in the night.

He stopped pacing, put both hands on his hips, then dropped them a second later and flopped unceremoniously back into his chair. His nerves were on end, willing him into action, but he didn't know what to do. He was confused about the case, about his relationship with Bones, about nearly everything these days. Sure, he'd known that his relationship with Hannah was going to change things with Bones, and that it would take some getting used to, but he hadn't counted on this. He hadn't prepared for how much it would change things, or just how much of a toll it would take on his partner. Bones swore that she was happy for him, and she'd never been anything but pleasant to Hannah, and yet … she seemed sincere, but underneath the sincerity she seemed … withdrawn, maybe? He couldn't place it – he just knew that she was different.

Booth smacked his fist against his desk in frustration. He deserved to be happy with Hannah. He deserved a relationship that was free and uncomplicated, with a great woman who was willing to return his investment and commitment. So why was this so hard? He wanted to be angry at Bones, but found that he simply couldn't b. Not only had she done nothing wrong, she'd done nothing but support him and his relationship. Which was also irritating; if she'd just said yes to him that night outside the Hoover … He cut off that thought before it could be finished.

He was startled out of his thoughts at the sound of his cell phone ringing. He grabbed it off his desk as if it had personally offended him and glanced at the caller I.D.: Hannah.

"Hey," He said calmly into the phone

"Where are you?" Hannah asked happily from the other end

"Still at work."

"Why? It's almost six in the evening."

"This case isn't working out the way I want it to," Booth answered

"Well how about you call it a night and meet me at the Jeffersonian?" She coaxed

"What are you doing at the Jeffersonian?" Booth queried, feeling his heart jump

"Well, I'm not there yet, but how about you meet me there and find out?"

* * *

Brennan glanced away from her mug as Angela dropped herself onto the couch next to her. Her best friend smiled at her, which she returned, and they sat for a moment in companionable silence. The lab was quiet around them; she hadn't realized she wasn't the only one here after hours. She was about to say something about it when, to her surprise, Hodgins and Cam took up seats in the chairs across from the couch.

"What are you guys still doing here?" Brennan asked, setting her tea on the coffee table

"Working late," Hodgins answered, "You don't get to be the only one logging long hours in the office."

"There's really not much for you guys to do," She objected

"Call it moral support," Cam shot back

Brennan was silent for a moment, then smiled at her friends. She was grateful for their presence, although she had not been aware that she was lonely. The day had been a long and taxing one; they'd made no break in the case, and it bothered her. She'd gone over the body time and time again, but cause of death eluded her. She was tired and unfocused, an unacceptable mix.

"You'll figure it out, Sweetie," Angela said reassuringly, patting her friend's knee, "You always do."

"I know, Ange, I'm just irritated. I hate feeling like I'm missing something."

"Well you've got the best team a scientist could want," Hodgins said with a cocky grin, "So it's only a matter of time before we catch this guy."

"Or girl," Brennan reminded him

"Or girl," Hodgins agreed, still grinning

"So have you guys started getting your house ready for a baby?" Cam asked, lightening the mood

"We're just starting on setting up the nursery," Angela answered, grinning excitedly

"How are you setting up the nursery if you don't know the sex of the baby?" Brennan asked

"Well at first Jack wanted to wait, but I made him see my side of doing our best to be prepared," Angela explained, "And we've agreed to do the nursery in neutral colors. So, ya know, instead of pink or blue we're going to go with yellows or greens or something."

"Ange wants to paint a mural on the walls," Hodgins added, smiling lovingly at his wife

"What are you going to paint?" Brennan asked in interest

"I haven't really decided yet. I thought maybe some kind of jungle thing, with wild animals and all that, but now I'm not sure. Animals seem so … overused."

"What about stars?" Brennan suggested then

"Stars?" Cam repeated

"Yes. You could paint the ceiling with the stars and constellations, and a galaxy on the walls. When I was little, my mother and I used to point out the constellations together. It was something just the two of us shared."

Her voice got softer as she explained, and her crystal blue eyes took on that far away look that said she was remembering something from many years ago. She thought of lying in the grass with her mom, staring at the ink blue night sky in wonder as her mom pointed out the planets and constellations to her. To this day it was one of her fondest memories of her mother.

"Well, it's gender neutral at least," She said then, suddenly embarrassed

"It's perfect, Bren," Angela reassured her, putting a hand on her knee, "Much better than jungle animals."

"Temperance?" Another voice called

Brennan looked around at her friends, who seemed just as surprised as she was to hear someone calling for her. They were the only ones still in the lab. Brennan stood from the couch and leaned over the railing that overlooked the platform; she was surprised again when she saw Hannah standing next to the forensic platform, glancing around the open space.

"Hannah?" Brennan queried, confused

"There you are!" Hannah called brightly

"Is everything okay?" Brennan felt her heart flutter with a sudden thought, "Is Booth okay?"

"He's fine," Hannah answered, "He should be here in a minute actually. Can I come up?"

"Sure," Brennan agreed after a slight hesitation

The blonde woman headed to the stairs and Brennan moved away from the railing, glancing at her friends. They, too, seemed surprised and confused by her sudden appearance. Brennan sat down in her spot again, trying to reign in the sudden feeling of awkwardness and consternation. She didn't dislike Hannah, but she wasn't necessarily elated at the idea of spending time around her. Especially if Booth was going to be there as well – she was perfectly happy not having to witness first hand their couple-centric behavior.

The blonde appeared at the top of the stairs and made her way across the walkway toward them, smiling brightly at them all when she was within distance.

"Oh good, you're all here," She said by way of hello, "I wasn't really even sure Temperance would still be here."

"Bones?" Another voice called, but this one she recognized immediately

"Up here, Booth," She called without rising

Brennan resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. She had the feeling that whatever had brought Hannah here (and Booth) was not going to be something work related, and she wasn't sure she wanted to deal with whatever it was right now. She'd been doing a good job of avoiding Booth's girlfriend, and an even better job of staying detached from Booth. That was all during the light of day, however, when she had her work to distract and sustain her. She didn't know if she could maintain the same level of diffidence now, when she was tired and her walls weren't as fortified.

Booth took a deep breath and calmed himself as he crossed the walkway to the group. He was surprised to see not only Bones, but Cam and Hodgins and Angela still here as well. His surprise waned as he got closer, however, driven aside as he automatically surveyed his partner. She was leaning forward, her forearms resting on her thighs and her head turned toward him. He wondered if her face had gotten thinner or if it was just a figment of his guilty imagination; he wondered if she ever left that damn platform without him there to annoy her endlessly.

"What's everyone still doing here?" He asked, glancing around

"Late night," Hodgins answered, "Trying to catch a break in this case."

"You look as if you've been working pretty late yourself," Cam said, glancing pointedly at his suit

"I've been hitting it pretty hard, I guess," He acquiesced

"Why are you hitting things?" Brennan asked in confusion

Booth couldn't resist the smile that spread across his face then. He'd missed the way she didn't get those popular turns-of-phrase; he'd missed her.

"It's just an expression, Bones," He explained, "I mean that I've been working pretty hard."

"Oh," She said simply, and fell quiet

"Well, I'm glad everyone's here," Hannah said excitedly into the silence, "I had an idea today while I was at work. I know how hard Seeley has been working lately, which I figured must mean that you guys have been to. It's a Friday night, and I think everyone could use a little time to relax and unwind, so I thought maybe I could take everyone out for drinks."

Booth saw the surprise he felt mirrored on four other faces. He hadn't exactly known what to expect on his way over here, but this possibility had not been one to cross his mind. He hadn't had his usual post-work drinks with Bones and the team for nearly two weeks now – not since before Hannah had moved in with him.

"Where did you have in mind?" Angela asked

"Well, a few of the guys at work suggested this place that sounds like it could be pretty fun. It's a little place in Alexandria called The Checkerbox."

The moment that followed was so fraught with tension that her whole body thrummed with the force of it. She held her breath, as if breathing had suddenly become unbearable. Hundreds of images flooded her genius brain in rapid fire succession, drowning the small voice of logic that ruled her daily actions. Her world tilted, spun wildly off its axis and went careening into the void.

In that moment, Angela looked from Brennan to Booth, horror carved into her porcelain face. Booth had gone pallid, standing immobile next to Hannah but staring holes into Brennan. Hannah stayed still, the consternation written in bold letters and radiating from her expression. Cam and Hodgins did not move, as if afraid that everything around them would disintegrate at the slightest disturbance. Everything seemed to be dangling precariously off the brink of a horrifying precipice, and she was powerless to save it.

The world shattered.

Brennan leapt to her feet in a blur of motion, her heart screaming treason as she stumbled blindly away from the disaster. Her long legs carried her away without thought, across the walkway and down the stairs as easily as if she were floating. Nothing seemed real; she felt removed, detached from her body in a way that she had never experienced.

Angela made to follow her, but Booth shot by her with a rush of air before she could take two steps. She didn't know whether to follow anyway or stay where she was; Hodgins' hand on her arm kept her where she was. She glanced quickly around at the four of them left in the lounge area, cataloged the disbelief and confusion and fear and then looked away.

"Bones!" Booth called, jumping the last two steps onto the lab floor

She wasn't far ahead of him, but she ignored him and kept going. She didn't know where she was going – she didn't care.

"Bones! Stop, damn it!"

He took a long stride forward and clasped her wrist. He stopped as soon as he knew he had her, and the momentum of her escape against his sudden halt swung her around to face him. Her face was drawn, blue eyes screaming silently at him with the weight of their fear. She was not crying, but years of knowing her allowed him to see the clear sheen of their gathering.

"Stop," He said darkly, emotion deepening his voice, "She didn't know. There was no way she could have known."

"I'm not angry with her," Brennan said, and something in her voice frightened him, "But I'm not going."

"Look, Bones, it was an honest mistake. I know it's not the greatest situation, but can we … can we just go, and try to at least pretend to have a good time?"

Booth wasn't sure he'd ever seen that look on her face before. She looked horrified and disgusted simultaneously, as if he'd just slapped her and then suggested that she deserved it. Her wide cerulean eyes narrowed, and beneath his thumb he felt her pulse jump and race.

"You want me to go to that place, and pretend like nothing happened?" She restated in a dangerous tone, "To humor your girlfriend?"

Her voice was rising steadily in pitch, and too late he realized that he was losing control of both his emotions and the situation.

"Yes," He replied loudly, firmly, "To humor my girlfriend."

"You, Seeley Booth, you are a bastard!" She exploded at him, taking a step toward him

"Oh, I'm a bastard?" He yelled back, grip unconsciously tightening around her tiny wrist, "Why? Because I ask you to do this for me? To at least humor Hannah? At least she's making an effort, which is more than I can say for you!"

The tears fell unheeded down her alabaster cheeks, racing unchecked to the bottom of her jaw and then falling soundlessly onto the lab floor. She had begun to shake, the exhaustion and anger and a million other things mixing into an atrocious cocktail and imploding upon itself.

"I'm not making an effort? I have been nothing but supportive of you and your relationship since the day you came back! I've gone out of my way to be nice to Hannah, and for what? For you, you obtuse ass! Now here you are, asking me to go back to that place and pretend! What would you like me to pretend, Seeley? That you weren't shot, that you didn't take a bullet for me? Or maybe you'd like me to forget the way your blood seeped between my fingers because I couldn't stop it? Do you know how many times I've tried to forget that? How many times I've tried to forget that you died in my arms as I begged you to hang on, or the way your heart stopped beating as I tried to keep you there with me! You died in my arms!"

She was pouring all the energy she had in to her words, the tears and the shaking and the raw passion of what she was feeling turning her legs to jelly underneath her. She dimly registered the look on her partner's face, the shock and despair that seemed to radiate from him; she thought she could almost hear him trying to calm her down, but the words would not stop. She'd opened the floodgate, and now she was destined to drown.

"Now here you are," She continued, losing no steam, "Asking me to forget all of that and go back to that place, relive that Hell just so you can humor your girlfriend. Well screw you, Seeley, screw both of you! Just because I'm not a dreamer like Angela, or a heart person like you, doesn't mean I don't have a heart!"

She was winding down, the sudden burst of angry energy dwindling into nothing more than frantic tears and uncontrollable shaking. She felt spent, as if she'd just run an unimaginable distance or run for her life. As the adrenaline receded, she became aware of the painful grip that Booth still had on her wrist, but she didn't have the energy to shake it. She had nothing left.

"God, Bones …" Booth exhaled, and then pulled her roughly against him as he wrapped her shaking form in his arms, "God, baby, I'm so sorry."

She wrapped her arms around his midsection, clinging to him for all she was worth as he rubbed soothing circles over her back. He turned his face into her hair, ashamed of the way he'd attacked and accused her. He'd had no right to ask that of her; he had no idea what have ever possessed him to even try. She was right, he was a bastard. He was a bastard and he felt out of control, and he'd just hurt her in a way that he never could have imagined.

"I was wrong, Temperance, so wrong to ask that of you. I don't know what I was thinking; with every inch of my being, I'm sorry."

He pulled away from her long enough to see her tear stained face and red rimmed eyes, hating himself for every inch of pain he saw that he saw there.

"Do you believe me?" He asked earnestly

"I believe you," She whispered

He pulled her back to him and kept her there for several moments more before finally releasing her. She took an unsteady step backward, uncertain of whether or not her legs would hold her. The tears and the shaking had stopped, leaving her feeling weak and a little numb. She hadn't known she would lose control like that; she had been utterly unprepared for the way it had overtaken her.

"I'm sorry," She apologized quietly

"Don't even say that. You have nothing to apologize for, Bones. I deserved that."

She made no reply. She still felt chagrin at the way she'd behaved, no matter how warranted either of them felt it had been.

"Hey," He said softly, pulling her attention back to him, "I know you have a heart. You have a beautiful heart, Temperance – I'm sorry I made you feel like I thought otherwise."

She only nodded, unable to find her voice. She couldn't process everything that had happened in the last few minutes; her mind felt foggy and muddled, as if she'd slept too long.

"Go get your coat," He said with a nod in the direction of her office, "I'll take you home."

"What about Hannah?" She managed

"I'll go talk to her while you get your coat. I'll be right back."

She watched him walk away, then headed to her office without protest. Tomorrow this would all make sense – tomorrow she would be able to think clearly, and objectively. Everything would be okay in the morning.


	4. The First Signs of Forward Motion

**_Author's Note: Hooray for quick updates! Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed (and favorited and alerted) so far! You guys keep me going, seriously. So I started writing this chapter, and it turned out a little differently than I had outlined it, but that's okay. I actually think it works better this way. Anyway, the tension between our favorite couple in the show on top of the tension I'm writing for them in my story was just starting to get to me, so we have a little ... not really fluff, but "betterness" in this chapter. I just hate how they are now. Anyway, they have a long way to go, but stick with me! They're on their way to recovery, lol. And if anyone is starting to get worried, I PROMISE that this is a B/B story ... Hannah won't be in the whole story. So, on with the reading!_**

**_P.S. Love it? Hate it? Hit that little button down there in the corner and leave me some love! Thanks - I knew I liked you. ;)_**

**_

* * *

_**_This is my december_

_This is my snow covered home_

_This is my december_

_This is me alone_

_And I_

_Just wish that I didn't feel like there was something I missed_

_And I_

_Take back all the things I said to make you feel like that._

_ ~My December, Linkin Park_

_

* * *

_

Sunday morning found her curled comfortably in the corner of her couch, a warm mug of Chai tea on her coffee table and a well worn copy of Dumas' _Count of Monte Cristo_ in her hand. She'd been up early, cleaned her house from top to bottom and showered and gotten ready for the day. The clock had barely reached nine a.m.; she hadn't slept well, and finally gave up trying sometime around six.

The phone rang again, but she ignored it and let it go to voicemail. She heard her own voice asking callers to leave a message, the long beep, and then Angela's voice carried through her kitchen. This was the second time today her friend had called her, and the fourth time since Friday night. Brennan had not answered any phone calls, including hers. She knew she was hiding, and that eventually she was going to have to answer her friends' calls, but she just didn't feel up to it yet. Her expectation that everything that happened would make sense in the light of day had not been met; rather, sleeping on it and then being able to think clearly the next day only made it more confusing. Without emotional stressors and physical responses to cloud her judgment, Brennan found that she was not only deeply hurt by Booth's senseless request, but she was still angry with him over it. He had apologized several times for the event, and she knew that he was truly sorry for everything that happened, but that didn't assuage her anger.

Her answering machine kicked off, after a final warning from Angela that if she didn't call her sometime today then she was physically coming over to talk to her. She smiled at the message, being almost exactly the same message she'd already left. Her mind trailed over messages then, and she thought of the one message from Booth that he'd left yesterday. He had called to tell her that Brian Perdue's alibi had checked out, and that he was no longer a suspect. The message had been short, and he'd made no mention of anything outside the case. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or irritated. She wondered at the way her life had apparently turned in to a strange pull of opposites: she didn't want to talk to Booth, but she was disappointed if he didn't call; she didn't really mind Hannah, but she didn't want anything to do with her. Everything was confusing.

She sighed and set down her book. Now that she'd started thinking about it all, there was no way she was going to be able to concentrate. She needed a distraction, something that did not require a lot of thought or concentration. She rose and headed into the kitchen to retrieve her phone. She dialed the number from memory.

"Hello?" A male voice answered

"Morning, Hodgins," Brennan greeted, "Is Ange there?"

"Sure, Dr. B, hold on."

She heard him set down the phone, and it wasn't even a full thirty seconds later that Angela was on the other line.

"Sweetie, thank God," Angela gushed, "I thought you'd never call. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," She replied automatically, although she didn't really feel it

"Uh huh," Angela replied, the doubt in her voice evident

"Do you and Hodgins have plans today?" Brennan asked

"Not really, we were just gonna sit around the house and relax. Why?"

"I find that I need a distraction."

"Which means what, exactly?" Her friend asked

"Well, I thought maybe you and I could go shopping or something. Do some of that female stuff you're always talking about."

"You mean 'girly' stuff, Sweetie, and I think that's a great idea! Shopping sounds like a perfect past time. I'll come pick you up – how does half an hour sound?"

"Good. Thanks, Ange," Brennan said, smiling

"No problem, Bren. I just hope you're ready – I have a degree in shopping."

Brennan hung up with Angela and headed into her room. She checked her appearance in the full length mirror on her closet door: blue jeans and a pale green scoop neck shirt that banded around her ribs and then flared out ever so slightly. She slid on a pair of black boots and grabbed a light jacket, just in case it was chilly out. She glanced at herself a final time in the mirror, then headed back to her living room.

She picked up her tea and finished the last little bit, carrying it into the kitchen and setting it in the sink to be washed later. Her iPod was still playing in the living room, but she was going to let it play right up until the time she walked out the door. Angela had made a good choice in getting her the small music player- she never would have imagined just how much use she would get out of it.

There was a light knock on her door. She glanced at her watch – Angela had never been very patient when it came to doing something like shopping. She suppressed a grin and headed for the door, pulling it open easily.

Angela was not on the other side of the door.

Instead, Booth stood before her in a faded grey t-shirt and jeans, his black leather jacket unzipped over the ensemble.

"Hey," He said softly, and his voice gave her butterflies

"Hi," She replied simply, too surprised to say more

She stood there dumbfounded for a minute, then stepped aside to let him in. He said nothing as he passed her on his way to the living room; she closed the door and followed him. He'd stopped in the middle of the room and turned so that he was facing her. He watched her walk toward him silently, searching her face for the tell-tale signs of anger or irritation.

"I would've called," He started, when she was standing in front of him, "But you wouldn't have answered."

Brennan appraised her partner. Years of friendship and hundreds of hours logged in each other's company helped her see the uneasiness in his stance and catch the undercurrent of guilt in his somber baritone voice.

"Is everything alright?" She asked, a knot of worry settling in her stomach

"Not really," He said honestly

He sat down heavily on her couch, then motioned with his head for her to take a seat next to him. She hesitated only a moment, then crossed the gap and sat close enough that their knees were touching. She had missed the easy closeness they shared.

"Did something happen in the case?" She queried

"No, it's not about the case." He stalled, unsure of what to say and how to broach the subject without upsetting or offending her. "It's about us, Bones. You and me."

"What about us?" She asked, suddenly on guard

"We're not working anymore, Bones. At least, not the way we used to."

Warning bells and red flags sounded alarms in her head. Her heart plummeted wildly into her stomach. This was the end she'd started to expect – he was here to tell her that he didn't want to work with her anymore. She started to rise, but he was quicker: his hand shot out and grasped her wrist before she could. Unfortunately, he grabbed the same wrist he'd grabbed the other night, iron fingers digging into the purple-blue bruise that had blossomed there. She flinched at the sudden pain and he let go as if he'd been burned. The mixture of the elements kept her rooted to her spot next to him.

Gingerly, as if she might break under the slightest pressure from him, Booth pulled her hand into his lap so that he could get a clear look at her wrist. One large, livid bruise had blossomed against her pale skin; it extended across the back of her wrist and onto the side. The sight of it nearly made him sick with guilt; an ache that had plagued his heart for longer than he could guess doubled in on itself and gnawed at him with renewed vigor. Unable to speak right then, he wound his fingers into hers and brought her wrist to his mouth.

The feeling of her partner's soft, warm lips brushing the already tender skin at her wrist almost made her shudder. He kissed the bruise tenderly, then lowered her arm so that it was resting easily on his leg. He did not release her hand.

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and she could see the dark circles under his eyes.

"We're not working, Bones, but that doesn't mean I'm leaving," He said quietly, "You didn't let me finish."

"Then you're not here to tell me you don't want to work with me anymore?" She asked, and her voice sounded softer than she'd intended

"Not even close."

She released a breath she had no recollection of holding.

"I don't know what's wrong with me. With us, with everything. All I know is that this isn't working, and we need to figure out what's wrong and how to fix it before it's too broke to fix."

"I'll admit that things have been … different, since we've come back," She agreed, licking lips that she hadn't known were dry

"Different? Not just different, Bones, but horrible. We never talk anymore, and when we do it just feels …"

"Artificial," Brennan ended for him

"Yeah. I just never know what to say to you anymore, and you've been so distant … I miss us, Bones. The us before we left for seven months."

She had no reply. He was right, about everything. Their partnership – their friendship – seemed to be nothing more than the hulled out shell of what it was before. The absence of it, the loss of something that had been so steady and constant throughout some of the worst times of her adult life left her feeling … abandoned, almost. She felt the same way she had that day she'd watched her father and Russ drive off in her brother's bronco, leaving her alone and handcuffed to a bench. Except that even in that moment, she had not been alone – Booth had been right there with her.

She glanced at the man next to her. So much had changed, and she felt so confused and alone most days that she just buried herself in her work. Despite all that, despite the horrid mess that it had all become, here he was. Booth was here, right beside her just like before, asking her to help him fix whatever it was that had gone wrong. She had expected him to leave, to walk away as she had always feared that he would, and now she was finding her expectations disappointed. No matter how messy things got, no matter how much it had changed, Booth was still there with her.

"I don't know how to fix it," She admitted in a whisper

"I don't expect you to," He assured her, "I don't know how to fix it either. But I want to try – I want to know that you want to fix it."

"Of course I want to fix it," She retorted, indignant that he would suggest otherwise

"Good.

He smiled and squeezed her hand encouragingly. His hand felt warm and rough against her own; she'd almost forgotten how much his touch reassured her.

"What are we going to do?" She inquired

"Well, first of all, we're going to stop shutting each other out. We need to start communicating again, even if what we want to say doesn't make sense."

"_That_ didn't make sense," She retorted

He laughed, the first time she'd heard him do so in what felt like ages.

"I just mean that we have to stop pulling away from each other," He clarified, "We'll start there, and work our way up."

"What about Hannah?"

"What about her?"

"Well, isn't it going to bother her if we start talking as often as we used to?"

"You let me worry about Hannah," He said, squeezing her hand again, "But there's one more thing I need you to do for me, Bones."

"What?"

"I need you to forgive me. I mean really forgive me, in your heart."

She started to say something, but he silenced her by putting a finger to her lips and shaking his head.

"I've been an asshole, Bones, and what happened Friday was just … unacceptable. I know you are still angry with me, and you have every right to be. I don't know what I was thinking. So I need you to forgive me, because I swore I'd never hurt you like you that. I don't expect it to happen overnight, or even anytime soon really, but promise me that you'll at least try."

She searched his face, a face that she had memorized and thought of nearly every day she'd been gone. This man, so sincere and concerned about how he'd hurt her, this was the Booth she missed. Brennan rarely ever made promises, but this was one she knew she could keep.

"I promise," She said simply

"Thank you."

Whatever he could have said next was cut short by the sound of an excited knock on her door.

"Angela and I are going shopping," She explained

"Now that is something I just can't get excited over," He joked, releasing her hand and standing with her

She smiled and headed for the door, opening it to find a positively beaming Angela waiting on the other side.

"This is going to be so great, Sweetie!" Her friend exclaimed, breezing by her, "You've been promising me that we would go shopping for … well, forever really."

"Hi, Ange," Booth greeted, chuckling

"Hey, G-man, I didn't see you there. Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all," Booth said easily, "I just stopped by to check on Bones. I was just leaving."

He headed for the door, and when he reached Brennan he reached out and put a hand on her arm.

"Breakfast tomorrow?" He asked

"You're buying," She answered with a smile

"Deal."

* * *

Booth closed the door to his apartment and threw his keys onto the small table in the entryway. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the corner; he was a little tired, but he felt better than he had in days – maybe even weeks.

"Hannah?" He called

"In the kitchen," Came the reply

He padded in to the kitchen and found her putting the finishing touches on a sandwich. He came up behind her and put his hands on her hips, leaning forward and kissing her cheek.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, "I can make you something to eat."

"No, I'm okay," He replied, "I think I might try and catch a game on TV or something."

He let go of her and headed in to the living room, plopping himself down onto the cushions without ceremony. Hannah followed seconds later, but he noticed when she sat down that she had not brought her sandwich. He was about to ask her about it when she beat him to the punch.

"Can we talk, Seeley?" She asked, positioning herself next to him in such a way that she was facing him

"Sure," He answered, but her tone worried him, "What's up?"

"Well, it's just that … we never really talked about what happened the other night," She started

"Hannah," He interjected

"No, Seeley, let me finish. I know you and Temperance are close, and you told me that you've been through a lot together, but I'm starting to see that there's a lot more to it than you're saying."

"We've been together for six years," He retorted, "You can't just outline everything that's happened in six years all at once."

"I know that."

"But?" He asked, sensing the other half of her statement

"You could have at least given me a heads up," She said softly

"I did!" He exclaimed, trying not to get defensive, "I told you that we'd been through a lot of rough stuff."

"You missed the part about dying," She shot back

"Right, because that's such a great conversation starter: 'I took a bullet for my partner, and, oh yeah, I died. Nice talk'."

"Okay, so it's not the easiest thing to talk about," She agreed, "But I'd say it's a pretty important one, since it obviously still bothers her."

"So, what? You're upset with me for not telling you our life's story, or upset with Bones because she's still upset over it?" He asked, and the defensiveness was rising

"Neither. I just think that maybe your version of 'close' and my version may not be the same thing," She answered, her voice rising

"Oh so now you're accusing us of, what, exactly? Sleeping together?"

He had sat up straighter as the conversation progressed, and it was now escalating quickly into an argument. He was so tired of arguing, and he'd only just barely made any sort of progress with Bones … he had come home from the desert, but he'd apparently never stopped fighting.

"Now you're putting words in my mouth," Hannah argued

"Well that's what it sounded like to me."

"I just feel like there's a lot I'm missing."

"Because there is, Hannah. You haven't been around us that long."

"Well can't you just … I don't know, explain it to me, or something?" She asked

"No," He resisted

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to sit here and rehash everything that's happened to us, Hannah. What's done is done, and we deal with it the best we can. Why do you need to know so badly?"

"I'm a journalist, it's what I do."

"Bones and I are not some story for you to uncover," He said firmly, and they were fighting now, "We're not here for you to investigate and dissect!"

"I never said I wanted to!" She yelled back, blushing at his accusations, "I just wish I didn't always feel like you were protecting her from me."

"She's my partner – protecting her is what I do!"

"Not from me, Seeley, I'm not attacking her!"

"You just did!"

"No I didn't! You're just being overprotective and jumping the gun because that's what you expect me to do!"

She was hurt, and it showed plainly on her face. For what felt like the hundredth time that weekend, he had managed to hurt someone close to him. She got up from the couch and started to walk away, and he stood to stop her.

"Wait, Bones …"

The shock that flooded him rooted him to the spot where he stood. He had no idea what had happened: he'd meant to say Hannah, he'd been actively thinking her name, but he'd called out for Bones instead. He was so surprised that he couldn't think of anything to say, he couldn't think of a way to mollify the situation. Hannah, who'd stopped dead at the other woman's name, turned to face him slowly. Her expression was almost unreadable, but he thought he could see hurt there.

"I'm going for a drive," She said in a tightly controlled voice, "I think we both need time to cool off."

He listened as she grabbed a coat and her keys, followed moments later by the sound of the front door closing. The sound seemed to bring him back to himself and he fell onto the couch once more, shaken. Letting out a ragged sigh, Booth dropped his head in hands and closed his eyes. Would things never be normal again?


	5. Saturday, the Parker Way

**_Author's Note: Hi Guys! I hope everyone's week is going well. Mine's going pretty well so far, making a lot of progress with the story! That's always a good thing, right? I've been rewatching the older seasons of Bones, and can I just say how much I miss our favorite duo? This season is just so different, it makes me so sad. B/B is such a dynamic couple, and now ... well, it makes me sad. But enough on that. We get to see Parker again this chapter, so yay for that! :) Anyway, thanks to all the readers/reviewers/alerters/favoriters (I'm pretty sure those last two aren't even real words, but whatever). On with the reading - enjoy!_**

* * *

_But I never told you_

_What I should have said_

_No, I never told you_

_I just held it in._

_ ~ I Never Told You, Colbie Caillat_

* * *

The following week, like so many of the others before it, was frustratingly long. His relationship with Bones seemed to be improving the more the week progressed, but the strain just seemed to translate over into his relationship with Hannah. He'd apologized for their fight, and for the slip up of calling her Bones, but the tension was still there. He was really starting to feel like he just couldn't win – more than once he'd wondered if he was just doomed to fail on both fronts.

When Hannah told him on Friday that she would be on assignment in Virginia all weekend, his first feeling was relief. The time alone would be relaxing, and it would really give him time to regroup and gather his thoughts on the current state of life. For once, he would be thankful for some time alone. His next feeling was one of guilt for not minding that his girlfriend was going to be gone all weekend. The two feelings battled each other, only adding to the stress that seemed to build continually within him. The relief finally won out toward the end of the week, however: just because he wanted some time alone didn't mean he didn't love Hannah. Besides, he rationalized, she could probably use some time alone as well.

Despite that rationalization, by the time lunch rolled around that Friday afternoon, Booth felt sufficiently torn on all fronts. Normally when something was bothering him, he'd tell Bones about it and she'd make him feel better in that oddly roundabout way that was solely hers. In this case, though, he wasn't sure that was such a good idea. He wanted to be open and honest with her again, true, but there had to be baby steps. He couldn't just throw this all at her, especially when she had a stake in it. He thought about talking to Sweets, but … no. Just no. So, who else was there?

Cam. The second her name came to mind he wanted to smack himself on the forehead for not thinking of it sooner. Cam was one of his oldest and dearest friends. He trusted her advice, and she understood him in a way that only came from years of friendship. Feeling triumphant, he called her and asked if she wanted to have lunch with him – when she accepted, he felt as if it was the first thing that had gone right all week.

So now he found himself at the diner, Cam sipping a glass of water next to him while she munched on a cucumber she'd picked out of her salad.

"How have you been, Cam?" He asked conversationally

"Pretty good, when Michelle isn't giving me heart problems."

"Has she been getting into trouble?"

"No, but she's a teenager – well, more of a young woman now really. Let's just say that you should be grateful Parker's not a girl."

Booth laughed and bit a fry in half. He could only imagine the difficulties of raising a teenage girl – it would be hard enough when Parker got to that age, and he was what some people called an "easy child".

"We've missed you at the lab," She said then, in that unobtrusive way that made her such a good friend

"Yeah," He agreed, "Things are … complicated."

"Life is complicated, Seeley," She observed

"Amen to that."

"Is everything alright between you and Dr. Brennan?" She asked gently

"Not really. But you already knew that, didn't you?" He replied with a crooked grin

"It's not exactly a secret."

"Guess not. Everything's just a mess," He confessed, glancing at the woman next to him, "My relationship with Bones has been so strained, and now that strain is spilling over into my relationship with Hannah …"

Cam could hear the confusion in his voice, and something else that was only a few steps from desperation. She had known that the partners were struggling, but she had not known just how much of a toll it was taking on both of them. She'd caught on to Dr. Brennan's plight only just recently, and now that she knew to look for it she marveled at how she could have ever missed it. Now here she sat, listening to and seeing that same plight reciprocated in Booth.

"What's going on between you and Hannah?" She probed

"Well, I went to see Bones last Sunday, to check on her and apologize again for what happened Friday. When I got home, Hannah and I got in a fight – she said she feels like there's a lot I'm not telling her. She was upset because I didn't give her a heads up about everything. Anyway, she started to leave and when I went to call her back, I called her Bones."

"Ouch," Cam said as she sucked in air, "That couldn't have gone well."

"Not really. But more than anything, that fight with Hannah has really got me wondering."

"About what?" Cam encouraged, sneaking one of his fries

"How I'm ever going to make this work," He said quietly, "How I'm ever going to balance it all out. How can I maintain my friendship with Bones and my relationship with Hannah?"

"So you're here because you want advice," She stated

"Well, yeah," He agreed, giving her his best charm smile, "You're one of my oldest friends, and I trust your judgment."

"How honest are we being here?" She queried

"Yeah cause that doesn't worry me at all," He chuckled

"Well, it's a fair question. I'll tell you what I think, but I don't want you to be upset if it's not what you want to hear," Cam explained with a shrug

"I'm sure I'll deal," He said by way of answer

"I was more than a little surprised when you came home with a girlfriend. Call me crazy, but I thought when you and Dr. Brennan came back you'd be a real couple. You practically were already. But instead you came back claiming your love for this other woman. Now, far be it from me to judge what you do with your life, but I will admit to being a little disappointed with you on this front, Seeley."

Booth gave a low whistle and shook his head. He took a drink of his water before replying.

"You weren't kidding when you said 'honest', were you?"

"Hey, you said you wanted the truth."

"I do. So why are you disappointed with me, Camille?"

"Do you realize how far Temperance Brennan has come in the last few years?" She asked instead, then, "Don't answer that. I'm sure you know she's changed, but I wonder if you really have any idea just how much. She's not the same woman she was when I first came to the Jeffersonian four years ago. She's learning how to connect with people; she's slowly letting down her guard. She feels safe – because of you, Seeley."

She leveled a very serious, very pointed look at him then. It was a look that said he better listen up and pay attention, because she was serious and this was important. Not that he needed the reminder – he wouldn't have come to her if it weren't.

"Maybe you're blind to it because of how close you are, but to an outsider like me the difference is glaring. In the last six years, you've helped Dr. Brennan shake her icy persona by just being there for her, no matter what."

"That icy persona was just a front," He pointed out, "Bones is a very warm, compassionate person."

"Yes, but she did her damndest not to show it, until you showed her how. You were so close, Seeley."

"So close to what?" He asked

"You know what," Cam stated, "It's just us here, you don't have to play stupid with me."

"So what is it you think I should have done?"

"Waited. You were doing so well, and then you got impatient and threw in the towel."

"Don't I deserve to be happy?" He argued, frustrated because she'd hit so close to home

"Of course you do," Cam answered easily, putting a reassuring hand on his forearm, "But I want that happiness to be genuine, and to last."

"Why doesn't anyone believe that I'm happy with Hannah?"

"I do believe that you're happy with her. Just not as happy as you could be."

Booth said nothing. He thought about what she'd said about Bones changing, thought back to the first year they'd worked together. She was still awkward, but she'd made progress by leaps and bounds. She was learning to joke and loosen up, she was letting that big heart of hers make appearances more and more often, but did he really believe that it had anything to do with him? Of course he did. He was the one who'd spent day in and day out with her for years, the one who'd been there when her father and brother failed her; the one who witnessed firsthand just how big her bruised heart was when she'd found a way to keep her father out of prison and with her. He didn't pretend to take the credit for the beautiful person she was, but he'd certainly helped her show that person to the world. And now? Now, well, she was retreating again, hiding herself from the disappointment and pain of the world. She was locking that truth away once more, and he was letting her.

"That phone," He said then, and he didn't know why it came to mind or why he was sharing the knowledge with Cam, "The old rotary one Hannah gave me?"

"The day she moved in? I remember it," Cam assured

"That was Bones," He said certainly

"How do you know?"

"I never told Hannah about the phones," He explained, "That was something I shared with Bones after Pops went back to the retirement home."

"Does she know?"

"Know what?" He asked

"That you know the phone was her idea."

"No," He said, shaking his head, "Should I tell her? What would I say?"

"All I know is that Dr. Brennan looks to you when it comes to personal interactions. She may not always show it, but she depends on you to show her the way."

"Because I'm the heart person," He said softly

"Yes," Cam answered, nodding, "If you let this go, if you never acknowledge that thoughtfulness, she'll either think that you don't care, or that her thoughtfulness doesn't matter."

He wondered if that were true. Did she really think that he was fooled into believing the phone had been Hannah's idea alone? He took in to consideration what Cam had said – of course that's what she thought. Why wouldn't she? He'd never said anything to make her believe otherwise. She probably thought that he considered it some kind of miracle, or that he'd simply forgotten they'd ever had that conversation; the latter was the more likely, since it would make sense to her hyper rational brain.

"Thanks, Cam."

"Hey, it's what friends are for, right?"

She smiled and took a bite of her salad. Booth was a good man – confused, certainly, but she couldn't hold that against him. He had been exceedingly patient when it came to Dr. Brennan, and everything concerned with her really. She couldn't blame him for feeling a little tired and impatient. She had meant what she said, though: he'd been on the right track, until he let that impatience get the best of him. They had made progress today though, and with any luck, the progress would continue.

* * *

A slight breeze rustled the leaves in the trees above them. The day was pleasantly warm, the cerulean sky cloudless above them. Saturday had dawned bright and beautiful – a perfect day for football.

Booth had picked Parker up early that morning, took him to breakfast, and then the Booth boys had headed straight to the park. Football in the park was one of Booth's favorite things to do with his son. They'd spent hours running the ball back and forth, and Parker had even managed to tackle him a few times when he wasn't paying attention. The afternoon had been a pleasant one, and Booth was enjoying his first completely stress free day in at least a month. This was what he missed.

"Hey, dad?" Parker queried

"What's up, bud?"

"What are we doing for the rest of the day?"

"I don't really know," Booth said honestly, "Is there something you want to do?"

"Can we go see Bones?" His son asked excitedly, "We could get her to go to lunch with us, and then we could go swimming in her pool!"

Booth looked at his son's face, beaming with excitement at the very thought of Bones and swimming. They hadn't been swimming in forever, and Booth always welcomed an excuse to see his partner. Well, at least he used to anyway. That hadn't really changed, he knew, at least not fundamentally anyway. In fact, the problem seemed to be that it hadn't changed enough.

"So?" Parker prodded, "Can we go?"

"Sure, bud, we can go," He said, ruffling his son's hair, "But first let's go grab our suits."

"Awesome!"

Parker grabbed the football and headed eagerly toward the vehicle. Booth kept an eye on his son, but pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket. Without even looking at it, he hit the speed dial and called Bones.

"Hello?" Her voice answered after the third ring

"Hey, Bones," He said brightly, "What's up?"

"Airplanes," She replied seriously

The answer caught him off guard, and he laughed at the unexpectedness of it.

"Did you just make a joke, Bones?"

"Did it work?" She replied

"I laughed, didn't I?"

"Then yes, it was a joke," She said, and he could hear a smile in her voice

"Do you have plans this afternoon?" He asked, his stomach fluttering strangely

"Not currently. I just finished up a few more notes on our victim's body, but other than that I am unemployed."

"Geez, Bones, it's Saturday. You're not supposed to be doing work things on a Saturday."

"Why?" She asked

"Why? Because it's the weekend, and weekends are for relaxing. You're supposed to get away from work."

"But I enjoy my work," She countered

"And you say I work too much," He complained, "Listen, Parker and I were wondering if you'd like to have lunch with us, and then we could go swimming later. What do you say? Get your mind off work and dead bodies for a little while, get you to relax a little … it'll be fun."

She was quiet for a few seconds, and he wondered if she was going to say no.

"How about I make lunch?" She said instead, "I'll make macaroni and cheese."

"That, Bones, is a great idea. Parker and I are gonna go grab our suits and then we'll be over."

* * *

She was smiling when she answered the door, and the delicious smell of food cooking wafted into the hallway as she did so. The Booth boys were standing on the other side of the door, Parker grinning broadly with his backpack slung over one shoulder. Behind him, Booth met her gaze and gave her a lopsided grin.

"Hey, Bones," He greeted

"Hi. Come on in guys," She said, standing aside to let them in

Booth nudged his son forward through the door and into the living room. Parker tossed his bag into the armchair without looking, his interest directed around the room as he took in the books and shelves and artifacts that decorated the living space.

"This place is so cool!" He gushed, "When I move out, my house is gonna look just like this!"

Brennan laughed and padded into the living room behind them.

"Parks, come pick up your backpack." Then, to Brennan, "Is there somewhere he can put this that's not in the way?"

"You can just put it in my room for now, since that's where you'll be changing," She said nonchalantly

"Whoa!" Parker exclaimed just then, "Dad, check out Bones' TV!"

Surprised, Booth turned away from Brennan to see what Parker was talking about. His son's eyes were fixed on the wall behind him, the largest wall in the living room. The bookcases that had once occupied the space had been moved to the side and rearranged, and the space between them was taken up by a very large, very new television.

"Bones, you got a TV!" He exclaimed

"A BIG one!" Parker added

"Angela talked me in to it," Brennan explained, sounding somewhat bashful, "And the sales technician assured me that this was the best investment for my money."

"How big is this thing?" Booth asked, moving toward it

"56 inches."

Booth gave a low whistle and glanced at the piece of equipment. The silver BRAVIA tag at the bottom glinted in the artificial lighting.

"Who mounted it to the wall for you?" He asked, facing her again

"I did," She answered with a small shrug

"You lifted a 56 inch television all by yourself?"

"Well, Angela helped."

"Why didn't you call me?" He asked, "That television is too heavy for you and a pregnant woman to lift by yourselves!"

"You were with Hannah," She said honestly, "I didn't want to bother you."

A strange look crossed his face then, and a long moment passed where they just looked at each other without making a sound.

"I have to check on the food," She said quietly, breaking the moment and moving away

"Here, Parks, take this down the hall and put it in Bones' bedroom," Booth said, handing the backpack to his son

He watched his son traipse down the hallway, then turned his attention back to the living room. He stared at the television for a minute, then took stock of the rest of the room. Aside from the bookshelves, nothing else seemed to have moved. He stepped closer to one of the shelves, scrutinizing the framed pictures that lined it. There was a picture of her mother, the one of her family at the park from before they disappeared, and one of the team from several Christmases ago. He stared at that picture a little longer than the others: Zack was in it, and everyone looked so happy. The last picture in the row was from the last Christmas, the one they'd all spent together with her dad and cousin Margaret. The picture was just the two of them: the tree was behind them, and they each had a glass of wine. His arm was around her waist, and they were smiling.

"Booth?"

"Hmm?" He murmured, turning away from the pictures

She looked great. She was standing a few feet behind him, comfortable in blue jeans and a pale pink t-shirt, her expression soft. There was so much he wanted to say to her just then, so many things that he wanted to talk about and questions he wanted to ask. But Parker was headed back toward them, and he didn't really know where to start anyway.

"I'm starving!" Parker proclaimed

"Lunch is almost ready," Brennan answered, chuckling, "Would you like something to drink, Parker?"

"Do you have soda?"

"The last thing you need is more sugar," His dad interjected

"Fine," Parker huffed, "Water, please."

Brennan disappeared into the kitchen, then brought out a glass of ice water and handed it to Parker.

"Don't spill," Booth warned

"It's just water, Booth," Brennan responded, "Would you like something to drink? I have that beer you like."

"Is it a good idea to have beer and then go swimming?" He asked, following her back in to the kitchen

"As long as it's only one, I don't see the harm," She answered, shrugging one shoulder, "And we're not going swimming right this moment."

"Good point. A beer sounds good."

She reached into her fridge and pulled out two bottles, and when she emerged again Booth was holding her bottle opener. She grinned and handed him first one bottle, then the other.

"Would you like to watch a movie, Parker?" She called in to the living room

"You have a DVD player too?" Booth groaned, "Let me guess, Angela talked you into buying that too?"

"Well, she made a good argument," His partner defended, "And it's actually a Blu-Ray player."

"You girls really went on a shopping spree, didn't you? Have you even used it yet?"

"Yes," She stated with a nod, "Angela loaned me a quite impressive selection of movies to choose from."

"You know what this means, don't you?" He asked, nudging her arm, "You're gonna have to get cable now."

"Why would I do that?"

"So I can watch the games!" He exclaimed happily

She laughed at his enthusiasm and the way his chocolate eyes glinted at her. This felt familiar, this was easy. They were Booth and Brennan again: crime fighters and best friends. Even if it was only for a moment. She missed 'them'.

"Dad! Bones has Prince of Persia!" Parker exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen, "Can we watch it?"

"Angela said she enjoyed that one," Bones pointed out

"Sure, Parks, we can watch it," Booth agreed, grinning at the zealousness of his son

"You're gonna watch it with us, right, Bones?" Parker asked, fixing his attention on her

"I'm making dinner," She answered, "If I don't pay attention, I'll ruin it."

"Then we'll wait until the food is done," He reasoned, "Then we can watch it together!"

Brennan felt an unexpected knot tighten in the pit of her stomach. Parker was not her son, but she was more fond of the boy than she'd ever expected to be. He looked so much like Booth, even shared many of the same mannerisms. Here he was, asking if they could all watch a movie together as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if they belonged together, just like this.

"What are we going to do until then?" She inquired, and her throat felt thick

"We could play Go Fish again," The boy answered quickly, "I have cards in my backpack!"

He disappeared down the hall again in a blonde-brown blur. As soon as he was out of earshot, Booth had turned and put his hand on his partner's arm, drawing her attention to him.

"You alright, Bones?" He questioned, noting the fine sheen of tears in her eyes

"I'm fine," She said easily, and the waver that he'd detected in her voice only a moment ago was gone, "Why wouldn't I be?"

He searched her face, but whatever had been there before was gone now. He thought about pressing the issue, but decided against it. He didn't want her to feel pressured or attacked, and he could have just been imagining things. Not that he really believed that.

"Thanks, Bones," He said instead

"For what?"

"For this. For being here."

"I never left," She answered softly, and he wondered if she'd meant to infer the double meaning


	6. Surprise?

**_Author's Note: DON'T KILL ME!_**

**_

* * *

_**

Commercial Break!

* * *

**_Secondary Author's Note: So, there's a funny story behind this little joke. When I first sat down to outline what I wanted to do with this story, and the ideas I had for the chapters, I somehow managed to skip right over Chapter 6. I went straight from five to seven, and didn't realize it until my husband pointed out that I'd missed it. Laughing, I said "Well I guess chapter six just isn't important." Without missing a beat, my awesomely supportive, hilarious husband said (completely serious), "No, it's just a commercial break. Just like in the show." After I laughed until I couldn't breathe, I decided that it was going to be exactly that - so you get a commercial break. I hope no one's exceptionally upset ... and since I'm not really that mean, I purposely didn't post this until I had chapter seven written and ready to go. So relax - there's a real chapter waiting for your reading pleasure!_**


	7. Mostly Whole

**_REVISED! So, after reading a few of your reviews, I went back and reread this entire thing as a whole. I wasn't particularly pleased with this chapter as a whole, and after I went back and saw what some of you were saying, I liked it even less. I tried to just rewrite part of it, but it didn't seem to feel right. So instead, I took out the whole part with Booth and Hannah. This chapter really focuses on Brennan, and some much needed healing with her family. The scene with Booth just seemed to take away from that focus, so I just got rid of it. So anyway, give it another go and tell me if this seems a little better (and a little less confusing)._**

**_Author's Note: Chapter Seven has arrived! Woot! Hopefully everyone's not too mad about the little joke last chapter - it was supposed to be funny. Ya know, ha ha? ) At least I posted a real chapter right after, right? Anyway, thanks for all the reviews and everything! (Do I sound like a broken record yet?) Seriously though, I'm glad that you guys are enjoying this work of fiction. So without further ado, enjoy your reading!_**

* * *

_Strung out with wings of the dawn_

_Hole in the black soul in the storm_

_Torn down through the cracks in the dark_

_We're miles adrift we're inches apart_

_ ~Broken, UNKLE_

* * *

"Hi, Dad," Brennan greeted, stepping away from the door to let her father in

"Hi, sweetie," Max answered, kissing her cheek as he passed, "Sorry I'm late, I got into an argument with the lady at the coffee shop."

"The barista?" Bones queried

"The who?" Max repeated, slightly confused

"The barista, Dad. Barista is what you call the person who makes your coffee," Brennan said simply, closing the door and heading to her living room

"Ah, yes, well not this woman. I can think of several things to call her that don't come close to …"

"Dad!" Brennan exclaimed, but she was grinning

"What? She made me mad. I gave her a twenty and she only gave me ten back. That woman tried to cheat me out of my money," He insisted

Brennan laughed and slid on her shoes. She headed back to her bedroom for a coat, detouring through the kitchen to make sure that she hadn't left any appliances on. Truthfully, she was feeling the slightest touch of nervousness: she was going with her father to visit Russ and Amy for the day. For no apparent reason, the thought of it made her feel … was excited the right word? This was the first time that all of them were going to be together since a few holidays ago, when she had arranged to have the conjugal trailer for them. Amy's girls would be there as well, and that too made her feel nervous. She wasn't very good with children; for what would not be the first time that day, a private part of her wished that Booth would be there with her, if only to tell her when she was doing something wrong and then the way to correct it.

"I hate to rush you, sweetie," Her dad called then, "But Amy is making us lunch, and we're already late."

"Coming, Dad," She called back.

She yanked a jacket off its hangar in her closet, checked herself in the mirror, and then shut off the lights and headed back down the hall.

"We're taking my car," She stated

"What? Why? My car is just fine," Max objected

"My car gets better gas mileage," She shot back

"You just want to drive," Max observed, grinning and waggling a finger at his daughter, "You love driving."

Brennan tried to give him her best skeptic look, but failed and started grinning seconds later. Her dad was in a very playful mood today, and she couldn't help but feel the same. Today was a day entirely for her – a day that was devoted to a family that she had never hoped to have again. Nothing could touch her today; she was happy. She grabbed her keys, double checked that she had everything she needed, and then ushered her father to the door.

"Are you sure we shouldn't bring them some kind of house warming gift?" She asked as she closed the door to her apartment and they headed for the elevator

"This isn't a house warming party," Her dad countered, "It's just a family day."

"I still feel like we should bring something."

Max laughed and put an arm around his daughter's shoulders. He had fully expected his stubborn, eternally busy daughter to refuse his offer to go with him to visit Russ and Amy when he'd first called, but (to his surprise) she had readily agreed. He had been ecstatic. Max Keenan was not a stupid man – he knew the damage he'd done to his family, especially when it came to his daughter. He could see the effect that it still had on her to this day, and it hurt his aging con man heart. He had had no other options all those years ago, and although he still believed he'd done the right thing, he saw how detrimental it had been to his children. He could do nothing about it now, except do his best to reunite their little family. Having his children together was like a balm for his soul, and he was thankful for every moment that they spent together. The only way things could be better was if Christine were here with them.

Brennan navigated her way onto the busy city street, headed for the freeway entrance. Traffic wasn't bad for noon on a beautiful Saturday afternoon; she checked her mirrors and merged onto the highway behind a white Toyota Sequoia. The SUV made her think of Booth, and she wondered what he was doing this afternoon. She hadn't talked to him since yesterday afternoon, when he'd called to tell her that Brian Perdue was innocent. They had (thankfully) made a break in the case, and it was looking more and more like it had been McKenna's boss. Booth insisted that the boss had killed her in a crime of passion, probably something along the lines of he wanted sexual favors in return for her promotion. Brennan wasn't sure that was the case, and they'd bickered for a few moments just like old times.

"How's Booth?" Max asked, breaking her reverie then

Brennan glanced sidelong at her father, wondering if he had somehow caught on to what she had been thinking of. His expression was innocent – or as innocent as it could be, anyway – and she chalked it up to coincidence.

"He's good," She said evasively

"Is he still sleeping with that She-devil?" Max continued

Brennan couldn't suppress the surprised chuckle that escaped her throat at her dad's words.

"She-devil?" She repeated, "Her name is Hannah, Dad, and I assume that they are still sleeping together, since they live together."

"I don't care what her name is," Max answered stubbornly, "As far as I'm concerned, she's a She-devil."

"Why?" Brennan asked

"Any woman who can come out of left field and get that man to pay attention to her, when he's clearly in love with you, must be some kind of demon."

"Hannah didn't come out of left …"

"She-devil," Max interrupted her, pointing at her again, "And you're not going to change my mind on this one, Tempe."

"Booth isn't in love with me, Dad," She said instead, glancing at the passenger's seat

"And you're not a genius," Max replied

"What? But I am a genius, Dad," She insisted, lost, "The I.Q. tests confirmed that I was back in college."

"It's a saying, Sweetie," Max soothed, smiling at his adorable little girl, "I mean I don't believe that he's not in love with you."

"Can we talk about something else?" Brennan asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat

"Of course," Max agreed amiably, but there was a devilish gleam in his eyes

His daughter fought the urge to sigh. She'd forgotten just how pestering her father could be when he was in a good mood.

* * *

Brennan stared absently out the kitchen window; she had a perfect view of the backyard from where she stood at the sink, and she watched as her father played hide and go seek with Russ' girls. Amy looked on from the porch, laughing and pointing out good hiding spots while Max rattled off numbers in his countdown. Brennan smiled at the scene – her father loved those little girls almost as much as Russ did.

She glanced away from the dishes she was washing – the least she could do after Amy had cooked them a delicious lunch – and glanced around at her surroundings. Their house was a modest but cozy one, with all sorts of personal touches that reminded her of something she'd see in one of Angela's movies. Photographs and drawings that the girls had done were held on to the front door of the fridge with magnets, along with a weekly shopping list and a reminder for a doctor's appointment. She felt strange all of a sudden, oddly out of place in such an obviously warm and loving place. She thought of her apartment, which seemed almost clinical in comparison. She had tons of books and artifacts from her many journeys, but nothing to really make it feel like a home. She enjoyed cleanliness and order, of course, but she suddenly wondered if her apartment lacked warmth. There were certainly no pictures of laughing people adorning her fridge; she wondered if that meant she were lonely, or perhaps that she wasn't as loved. She shelved the thought for later, resolving to ask Booth his opinion on it the next time she had a chance.

"You wash, I'll dry?" Russ asked then, standing next to her with a dish towel in hand

"You know you can't keep up with me," She challenged, grinning

"How much you wanna bet?" Her brother shot back

"I'll bet you a Twix that I'll be done washing dishes before you're done drying them," Brennan stated

"Deal. You're gonna owe me a Twix, munchkin!" Russ exclaimed

Brennan washed dishes faster than she had in years. She had played this game with her brother almost nightly many years ago, when they'd both been young still. Dishes had been their chore growing up, and Russ had come up with this game to make it easier because they both hated doing the dishes.

Brennan was clearly pulling ahead, grinning when she glanced over and saw the pile that was starting to accumulate on her brother's side of the sink. Her distraction cost her dearly, though, when Russ surprised her by splashing water at her. The warm water hit her square in the face and she jumped back in surprise, yelling at her brother amidst laughter.

"That's cheating!" She exclaimed

"I can't believe you fell for that!" Russ yelled back, laughing , "I get you with that every time!"

"I still win," She argued, wiping her face

"No way! You still have dishes on your side," Russ answered

"You're such a cheater!" She protested

"No, I'm a big brother," He countered

Bones laughed and shook her head. She moved back to the sink, half heartedly splashing water in Russ' direction.

"I'm not buying you a Twix," She informed him with a haughty look

"But that was the deal!"

"You cheated," She said with a shrug

"Don't make me tell Dad."

For a second she just stared at her brother, and then they both dissolved into laughter. They finished washing the dishes in companionable silence, and Bones thought about how much she had missed her brother. She'd missed her parents, of course, but there was just something about the bond between siblings that made it seem like an even closer one. She had adored Russ growing up, and sometimes she thought that it had hurt her even more when he left than it did when her parents left.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Russ asked as he finished drying the last dish

"I was thinking about when you left," She said honestly, turning to face him, "Why'd you do it, Russ?"

"I panicked, Tempe," Russ said sadly, his expression somber, "I didn't know what to do. I was hurt too, ya know."

"I didn't know," She said in a matter of fact way, "At least, not then. I know now."

"Not a day goes by that I don't regret leaving," He said honestly, and she believed him

"Why didn't you come back?"

"I did, but by the time I got there you were gone. I thought maybe you'd gone to stay with someone else, a friend maybe. It didn't occur to me until much later that child services might have taken you."

Brennan nodded, her mind wandering over the years she'd spent in the system as a foster child. She thought about her brother on the outside, and how neither of them had known what had happened to the other.

"Was it hard?" Russ asked gently, and she brought her gaze up from the floor to meet his, "Being in the system?"

"Yes," She said simply, not knowing what else to say

"Were they nice to you, at least?"

"Some of them," She said evasively

"What do you mean, 'some'?" Russ prompted

"I don't think we should talk about this now," Bones answered, "It's been such a good day and everyone's in a good mood."

"What do you mean, 'some'?" Russ repeated, "Did they hit you? Beat you?"

"Not … exactly."

"Tell me, Tempe."

"One family locked me in the trunk of a car for three days when I dropped a dish," She said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible

The expression on her brother's face went from disbelief to anger very quickly.

"They … locked you in a trunk," He said again

"It was a long time ago, Russ, and I'm fine," She hurried to say, trying to calm him down, "There's no use crying over bad milk."

"Spilt milk," Russ corrected automatically, and it seemed to pull him out of his head, "No use crying over _spilt_ milk."

"That's what I said."

Russ pulled her into a tight hug then, and she hugged him back as hard as she could. They were complicated, and broken in more ways than she could even begin to count, but they were together. Her family was finally together again, and they finally had a chance to repair all the damage that had been throughout the years. She didn't understand it all, and she had so much more to learn, but they were here.

"I'm sorry, munchkin," Russ said softly, and she smiled at the use of his childhood nickname for her

"It's okay, Russ. It's over now, and I'm fine."

"That's not the point."

He let her go just as Amy came in off the porch. Max was still immersed in a game of hide and seek, and Brennan could hear Hayley's squeals of delight from where she stood.

"Everything okay?" Amy asked, glancing from brother to sister

"Yeah," Russ said, smiling at his girlfriend

"Thank you for doing the dishes, Temperance," Amy said, smiling at her, "It really wasn't necessary."

"It's the least I could do," Bones answered, returning the other woman's smile

"Hey, I have a great idea!" Russ said suddenly, "You should buy a house, Tempe!"

"What?" Brennan asked in surprise

"You should move, buy a house out here close to us so we can see each other more."

"I can't quit my job, Russ," She countered

"You don't have to. Just buy a house that's halfway between us and the lab. Then we could see each other every weekend. The commute wouldn't be bad, we don't live that far away from D.C."

Brennan arched a skeptic eyebrow at him, but he seemed to think the idea was a fantastic one.

"And Dad could move to, that way we'd all be together again! C'mon, Tempe, doesn't it sound good?"

She didn't answer right away, looking instead from her brother and Amy to her father, who was playing happily in the backyard with his granddaughters. Booth had tried to talk her into buying a house once, a long time ago, but she'd never really considered it. Her apartment was perfect for her: the perfect size, in a good neighbor and the perfect distance from work. Then again, she hadn't had a good reason to move all those years ago, and now, well … it would be nice to be closer to her brother and his family. Still, she wasn't sure; she'd be farther away from the lab if something came up, and farther away from Booth … the thought of Booth brought an image of him to the forefront of her mind, and she briefly considered what he was most likely doing today. Spending time with Hannah, no doubt, doing any number of those couple centric things that Booth seemed to put so much stock in. They had agreed to move on, hadn't they? He seemed to be having no trouble doing that – he had his perfect girlfriend and they were living together and they were just the picture of happiness, weren't they? The thought was a sobering one: why should she be considering Booth when it came to the changes she made with her life?

Her eyes fell on the pictures littering the fridge door then, and she wondered if Booth had pictures of himself and Hannah on his fridge. She had made up her mind before she'd even finished the thought. If Booth could change his life and the ground rules of their partnership, then so could she.

"Well?" Russ prompted

"I guess I should start looking for a house," She answered, grinning

* * *

**_Secondary Author's Note: Extra brownie points go to the reader who can tell me what soundtrack the song at the beginning is from. XD _**


	8. And So it Begins

**_Author's Note: Hi everyone! Can I get a "woot woot" for chapter eight? Lol. I just want to say thank you for the awesome response to this story - this is my first story ever to get reviews in the triple digits! You guys rock my socks off. Anyway, someone was asking about one of the previous chapters, saying how can Russ finish drying dishes before Brennan had finished washing them. I should have wrote it in there (or in a better way, maybe), but that was the point of the game. Russ could never win. They came up with the game as kids, of course, so I meant for the logic to be flawed. Guess I should have stated that in an AN or something. ) But anyway, have a badass day guys! P.S. I loved this chapter!_**

* * *

_Who are we to be emotional?_

_Who are we to play with hearts and throw away it all?_

_Oh, who are we to turn eachother's heads?_

_Who are we to find ourselves in other people's beds?_

_~This Love Will be Your Downfall, Ellie Goulding_

* * *

Outside, torrents of rain pelted the window in a steady staccato, running down the clear pane of glass in rivulets of translucent liquid. He stared at the sporadic paths the water traced against the glass, watching as it branched and twisted its way to the bottom. A cup of coffee, mostly ignored, sat steaming in front of him. His mind was chaotic today, jumping from subject to subject like a hyper active child playing leap frog. Despite his apparent inner chaos, Booth had been staring absently out the window for what felt like forever. Sundays were usually a relaxing day for him, but this Sunday in particular was devoted to absolutely nothing. Although he'd been up for nearly two hours now, he was still dressed in a comfortable pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and he was in no hurry to change. He didn't have Parker this weekend, no set plans for the day, and nothing really pressing to accomplish. As such, he figured he deserved a day of shameless idleness.

He could hear Hannah rummaging around in the other room, a clear sign that she had woken up. She'd been sound asleep when he'd crawled out of bed at six that morning, and he hadn't bothered to wake her. He'd closed the bedroom door behind him, to make sure his movements wouldn't wake her as he shuffled around the kitchen and made coffee. Sleep had not come easily to him the night before, and even when he did fall asleep he'd tossed and turned so much that whatever sleep he did get was not restful. He and Hannah had argued again before bed; something that seemed to be happening more and more often as of late. He really couldn't even remember what had started the argument – he thought maybe it had to do with Hannah's job, or maybe even his own. He did remember that the fight had been a stupid one, over something trivial and meaningless, and that had made him even more angry. The couple had begun to fight more often ever since that fateful day weeks ago, when he had slipped up and called her Bones.

He thought of Bones then, and the way they'd always seemed to bicker. Their bickering, even their arguing was different, though. They would bicker about the little things, but not out of anger or spite. In some ways, he thought they bickered just for the hell of it, just to throw their ideas off one another and see what kind of response they got. Even when they did argue, it was rarely over meaningless things. When he really thought about, Booth couldn't remember a single time they'd ever fought where they'd intentionally endeavored to hurt one another. They had different view points on nearly everything, true, but even when they argued there was an undercurrent of respect. Well, except for the time Brennan had thought he was dead, only to find out that he was really alive and well. She'd been pretty upset with him that time.

Hannah slid into the chair across from him, drawing his attention away from the window. She gave him a soft, almost shy smile, as if she weren't sure what kind of mood she would find him in.

"Hey," She said softly

"Hi," He replied, giving her a small smile in return

"How long have you been up?" Hannah asked

"A few hours. There's some coffee if you want."

She murmured a thank you and slid from her seat, headed for the coffee pot. He took a moment to watch her as she reached for a coffee mug. Even now, when she'd just barely rolled out of bed, Hannah was beautiful. She'd pulled her long golden tresses into a high ponytail, and she was dressed comfortably in a pair of shorts and t-shirt. Her movements were a little sluggish, and he thought he saw some traces of tiredness in her face, but she still looked great. An odd thought struck him as he watched her pour a cup of coffee: Bones and Hannah were both beautiful, but in completely different ways. Not quite perfect opposites, but certainly opposite. He had never really taken the time to stop and think about it before, and he couldn't say what it was that made him think of it now.

He had been thinking of Bones a lot. She would cross his mind randomly, almost without cause several times a day. He would be thinking about something as mundane as cleaning or shaving or making coffee and his thoughts would suddenly turn to her. He'd wonder what she was doing, or if she were getting enough sleep, or any number of other things. Yesterday he'd even found himself trying to think up a reason to call her, but none had come to mind. They'd solved their case that week – McKenna's boss had killed her in a fit of passionate rage after work one night when she'd refused (again) his offer of promotion in return for sexual favors. Booth had not been able to resist teasing Bones about how he'd been right when it came to the motive, and they'd felt like themselves again. That is, right up until the time that the rest of the team had gone to the Founding Fathers for celebratory drinks, and he'd gone home to Hannah. Seeing his team celebrating the close of a case without him had stung. He had started that tradition with Bones, and over the years it had become like a trademark of theirs.

Strange, that six years ago he'd been dead set against working with squints. He'd swore that squints and agents didn't mix, that theirs were two worlds that should remain forever separated. Now, the squint squad was family – they were a team, his team. _Their_ team. He and Bones were the center – well, they had been at least. Gordon Gordon's words floated back to him then, as if from a distant dream, something the psychologist turned chef had told him when he'd turned to him to fix his brain: "You're building a family, and a life, around her." In truth, he'd done exactly that; and then he'd traded it all in.

"Seeley? Did you hear me?"

Hannah's voice cut into his thoughts, and he tore his gaze away from where it had wandered back to the window and redirected it at her.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked

"I asked if you wanted breakfast," She repeated, giving him an appraising stare, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just spacing out. Breakfast sounds good."

"You want anything in particular? Pancakes, waffles, bacon and eggs?"

"It's up to you."

"Bacon and eggs sounds kinda good, actually," Hannah mused, and fell to getting the food started

There, Booth thought, there was a huge difference between Bones and Hannah. Bones was a vegetarian – he would never catch her eating bacon. In fact, he tried to remember a time that he had seen her eat meat at all. There may have been a little bit of chicken, or some fish maybe, but he couldn't remember for certain. Were the situation vastly different, and that were Bones making him breakfast, they certainly wouldn't be having bacon. Then again, he would have given up all the bacon in the world for her.

He tensed as soon as the thought crossed his mind. Was that really true though? How could he say that it was? He had thrown in the towel, just like Cam had said. He'd gotten frustrated, he'd let Sweets goad him into toeing the line when he'd known, deep down, that she hadn't been ready for it. She'd been close – _so close_ – and a part of him had hoped that maybe a little push would help. Instead of pushing her forward, though, instead of pushing her toward him, it'd only pushed her away.

He could smell the bacon as it cooked in the pan, and his thoughts wandered back to the lack of bacon. He had been wrong – Bones would never eat bacon, but that did not mean that she wouldn't have cooked it for him. She would probably say something about how unhealthy it was for him, but she would never tell him he couldn't have it. That was one of the great things about Bones: she may not agree, she may have a different opinion, but she never tried to change him.

A very painful thought occurred to him then. When he'd told her that he wanted to give them a chance – when he'd gambled, and lost – she'd told him that she was protecting him. She'd pulled away, she'd restated that she was not a gambler and that she didn't know how to change. In that moment, wounded and disbelieving, Booth may have heard her, but he hadn't really been listening. If he had been, if he'd truly listened to what his partner was saying, he would've known what to say. He would've assured her that she didn't need to change, that he didn't want her to. Then again, if he'd been listening, he would've done and said so many things differently.

As he sat at his kitchen table, the rain pattering a steadying rhythm against the window next to him and his girlfriend cooking breakfast, every realization and thought and feeling that Booth had been denying for the last several months came crashing down on him. They exploded like a supernova in his soul, flooding him with every furiously whispered thought that he'd dismissed for so long. He knew, with gut wrenching certainty, that he'd given up too soon. He'd gone about it all wrong: she was a scientist, a lover of facts and certainty and proof. He knew that, and yet he'd gone to her and asked her to gamble. He'd asked her to take a chance on something that might work, asked her to jump feet first into something that she knew barely anything about. As if that weren't bad enough, he'd promised her fifty years one moment, and then turned right around and told her that he was moving on. Without even knowing that he had, he'd simply fueled her belief that feelings were ephemeral. He'd told her that he was _that guy_, promised her a lifetime, and then came home seven months later announcing his love for another woman. What reason had he given her to believe him? He'd done more than simply give up on her – he'd outright undermined everything he'd been trying to prove to her. In a sense, he'd straight up abandoned her; just like everyone else she'd loved.

"Do you need more coffee?" Hannah asked then, setting a plate of hot food in front of him

"Uh, I'm okay," He replied automatically, "Thanks."

She grabbed her own plate and took up the seat across from him again. Booth ate absent mindedly, his thoughts refusing to budge from the subject of his partner. What the hell had he done? Better yet, what the hell was he supposed to do now?

* * *

Sweets' gaze wandered away from the patient's notes in front of him and fell on a copy of his book that sat perched on the corner of his desk. He stared at it for several long moments – he hadn't been wrong, had he? No, he dismissed the thought. He hadn't been wrong. Booth and Brennan had been in love with each other. Were they still? He just wasn't sure anymore. Part of him nearly screamed yes, but the other part of him was beginning to think not. Booth did seem to love Hannah, although Sweets doubted that it was on the same level or in the same way that he loved Brennan. Still, he genuinely cared about her and wanted to make their relationship work. That much was true.

The young psychologist sighed and dropped his pen. His star patients were honest to God, no holds barred pains in the ass – and they were very nearly driving him crazy. Irritated, discouraged, Sweets picked up his book and all but shoved it into a spot on his bookcase, where he wouldn't have to stare at it. Booth and Brennan had not been in for counseling in some time, and Sweets wondered how they fared. He knew, from visits to the lab and the few times that he had talked to Booth in his office, that things had changed drastically. The once inseparable pair now spent barely any time together – the dynamic of their relationship had seemed to change on an almost fundamental level. In some ways, it was almost as if they had completely rewritten their partnership. That bugged him more than he cared to admit. Booth had been the one to instigate the change, he was certain, and while he had Hannah to soften that blow, Brennan had no one. He could only imagine how that was affecting her. She would hide it, deny it if anyone were to address it, but Sweets knew that in her eyes Booth had abandoned her. A friendship, a relationship that had been an unwavering constant for many years had suddenly been ripped away. The person who had slowly been showing her that it was okay to let down her walls had suddenly disappeared, no doubt leaving her reeling in surprise (if not shock).

His office door was practically thrown open then, and Sweets silently praised himself at not jumping out of his own skin at being startled so. He spun around to see who had barged so unceremoniously into his office, only to be momentarily derailed in surprise. Booth strode into the room, almost slamming the door behind him. His expression was a mix of anger and uncertainty and something else, and he was wagging a finger in Sweets' direction as he came to stand in front of the couch.

"You," Booth hissed, "You egged me on. You goaded me … you challenged me…"

"Breathe, Agent Booth," Sweets said calmly, although he was completely lost, "Calm down."

"You don't get to tell me to calm down," Booth shot back, "I should have never listened to you!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Agent Booth," Sweets said evenly, "What do you mean, you should never have listened to me?"

"You told me I was the gambler. You said one of us had to break the stalemate, that it had to be me."

A flicker of recognition came to him then. Booth was talking about all those months ago, when he and Brennan had told him of their first case together. Sweets had posited that they'd missed their moment, and that Booth had to break the stalemate between them.

"What happened?" He asked in the calmest tone he could muster

"I gambled!" Booth exclaimed, obviously agitated, "I gambled and lost. I told her that I wanted to give us a shot, that I was her guy. I promised her thirty or forty or fifty years, and she shot me down!"

Suddenly everything seemed to make so much more sense to him now. Sweets had had questions this whole time, so many things just had not added up, and now he finally knew why. Booth had broken the stalemate, but the outcome had not been a positive one.

"I should never have said anything," Booth continued, "I knew she wasn't ready. But instead I let you bait me, I let you goad me into doing it anyway."

"What happened between you and Dr. Brennan is not my fault, Agent Booth," Sweets replied, and for the first time he felt the first beginnings of anger at the other man

"The hell it isn't," The older man fired off, "You showed me that damn brain scan, told me that all of my feelings for her weren't real and they'd go away, and then you turn right around and tell me to give it a go. What the hell were you thinking, Sweets?"

"Stop right there, Booth," Sweets replied, forgetting the Agent part as he got all riled up, "I'm not taking the blame for this. You are a fully capable person, and you made the decision to …"

"Why the hell would you tell me that what I feel isn't real, and then tell me to give it a shot?" Booth interrupted, "You write that damn book saying that we're in love, and then you try and convince me that we're not?"

"If you knew she wasn't ready, then why'd you do it? You never listen to me; why did you choose then to do what I said?"

"Because I was confused! I was confused and tired and impatient. It's been six years! So I did what you said, and it backfired! Now look at us – nothing's the same. We never talk, we never see each other, we don't even feel like friends anymore."

"So because you realized that you've basically been an asshole to her this whole time, you come storming into my office trying to blame me for what's happened?" Sweets challenged

Booth physically took a step back in surprise. Sweets' words, uttered in such an even tone, were full of anger. Never before had Sweets talked to him so – never had he seen the young psychologist lose his cool in such a way. He was so surprised by it that it almost felt like the other man had reached out and punched him. Booth had not seen Sweets much since he'd been home, at least not as much as he used to. He'd dodged the FBI psychologist, fended off his questions, even discredited the things he said, but that was all at an end. As he stood rooted to his spot, he felt as if he suddenly was seeing Sweets again for the first time since he'd been back. Looking at him now, Booth knew: Sweets was honest to God angry with him.

"Did you just call me an asshole?" Booth asked, his voice calmer than it had been

"Yes," Sweets answered honestly

"You think I've been an asshole?"

"Who doesn't?" Sweets retorted

Booth sat down heavily on the couch that he normally occupied with his partner. Did everyone really think he was being an asshole? He mulled it over for several minutes. Cam had admitted to being disappointed with him, although she had never actually used the word asshole. Angela, although civil, had been lacking her usual warmth around him. He had probably dismissed it as pregnancy hormones, but now that he took a step back and thought about it, it made sense. She was Bones' best friend, and he had hurt her – of course Angela thought he was an asshole. Hodgins pretty much seemed to stay out of it as best he could, but Booth wasn't fooled. The bug and slime guy was just as fond of Bones as his wife was.

"Why am I an asshole?" Booth asked then, feeling a surge of irritation, "Because I tried to move on, and be happy?"

"You're entitled to your happiness, Booth," Sweets replied, sitting down in his chair across from him, "No one is saying that you don't. But you could have gone about it a better way. You yourself admitted that Dr. Brennan wasn't ready to hear your confession of love – but let's move past that. Since you've been home, you've basically been rewriting the ground rules of your relationship with Dr. Brennan. You've taken something that was constant, steady, and you've basically shoved it in a corner and forgotten about it."

"I didn't forget about anything!" Booth protested

"Well you pretended to. One of the greatest things about your relationship – your partnership – with Dr. Brennan has always been your ability to connect with her. You see that vulnerable, warm layer just underneath her icy exterior and help her bring that out. You never let her hide behind her science or logic that she loves so much – at least you never used to do those things. Ever since you came back from the desert, however, the story has changed."

"How?" Booth asked

"You know how," Sweets countered, giving the other man a pointed look, "You've seen it. You may have ignored it, or denied what you saw, but you know what's going on. The Brennan that everyone has grown to love, the genius scientist with a broken heart, is retreating back into her world of bones and facts and logic."

"The heart is a muscle," Booth said without thinking, "So it can't actually break."

"Did Dr. Brennan say that?" Sweets questioned

"She said a heart can only be crushed," Booth explained, nodding in response to Sweets' question, "So instead of heart breaking, we should say heart crushing. Do you really think her heart is crushed, Sweets?"

The psychologist looked at the man sitting across from him. Booth looked worse for the wear, honestly, as if he hadn't allowed himself to slow down or relax since he'd been home. His suit was perfectly pressed, as usual, his cocky belt buckle and openly rebellious tie ironed and polished and ever present. Despite that, despite all the outward markers that he was perfectly put together and ready to take on the world, Sweets could see the truth. Here was a man who was still largely confused, a little unsecure even; he knew he'd made a mistake, just realized it maybe, and he had no idea what to do now. He feared that his partner's heart really was broken – crushed – and that he'd had a hand in the crushing.

"Maybe not crushed," Sweets said gently, "But definitely bruised. The fact that Dr. Brennan insists that a heart can't be broken says more about her than you know, Agent Booth."

"She was stating a fact, Sweets," Booth argued, "You know how Bones is, when something isn't factually true, she has to correct it. It's just how she is."

"Many times, that may be the case," Sweets agreed, but Booth could hear the caveat in his tone

"But you don't think so?"

"Not with that. Dr. Brennan has been neglected and abandoned throughout much of her life. In spite of all of that, she continues to try. She kept her dad out of prison so that she could have a relationship with him, even though he abandoned her. She devotes her life to identifying people the world has forgotten; she finds out who they are and where they belong, even after years have passed. If there has ever been a person with more right to call herself heart broken than Temperance Brennan, then I have yet to meet her. Throughout all of this, she still maintains that a heart cannot be truly broken. She may have said it as scientific fact, Agent Booth, she may even believe that on her top layer."

"But you don't," Booth stated

"No, I don't," Sweets agreed with a shake of his head, "Underneath all that science and rationale, deep within those walls she's built, Dr. Brennan is capable of not only a deep love, but a wholly pure and unwavering one. All she needs is someone worth giving it to."

"Oh, and you think I'm not worth it?" Booth challenged

"Quite the opposite, actually," Sweets said easily, sitting back in his chair

"So … you do think I'm worth it?" Booth asked, slightly thrown by Sweets' answer

"Myself and everyone else in this dysfunctional little family," The young man answered, "Including Dr. Brennan."

"You really believe that, Sweets?"

"Of course. Why else would everyone be so upset with you for giving up? We want nothing more than a lifetime of happiness for you – and Dr. Brennan, of course – and we all know that you'll never be truly happy as long as you're apart."

"What about Hannah?"

"Hannah is a great woman, Agent Booth," Sweets said honestly, "But she's stepped up to bat in a game that was lost long before you ever laid eyes on her."

"Nice baseball reference there, kid," Booth said with a snort

"Thought you might like that," Sweets replied, grinning

"So what am I supposed to do now?" Booth queried, running a hand over his eyes

"I can't answer that."

"Oh c'mon, Sweets, you were doing so well right up until then! What do you mean, you can't answer that? You're a shrink!"

Sweets smiled. The anger that had driven Booth to come stampeding into his office was gone now, and he could hear in the way the other man teased him that something had changed. Right now, picking up on baseball references and giving him a hard time about his line of work, these were the first signs that all hope was not lost. The "Alpha male", as Dr. Brennan had so aptly described him, may have strayed from his family, but he had not given up – at least not completely.

"You're really not going to give me an answer?" Booth goaded

"That's up to you to decide," Sweets retorted, shrugging

"That's what I get for trying to talk to a kid," Booth mumbled, loud enough for him to hear

Sweets almost laughed. Oh, yes – there was hope for them yet.


	9. The Chaos Reigns

**_Author's Note: HI! *waves excitedly*. How is everyone? Psyched for chapter 8? Thank you for all the reviews and favorites and what not, you all rock. :) Anyway, I posted the last chapter in a hurry before work, so I forgot to say that a metric buttload of brownie points goes out to Oneturtledove and piper maru duchovny, who correctly guessed that the lyrics from the previous chapter were from a song featured on the X-Files: I Want to Believe soundtrack. So yeah, I apologize now for any mistakes in spelling or missed words, I didn't read over this before I posted it, so I hope it's not too bad. This is an interesting chapter - not one of my favorites, but hey. We get a little Booth and Brennan goodness, a well deserved break from all the angst. And a little (I hope) surprise that no one saw coming. As always, be dears and leave me a little review love. ) I look forward to hearing what you think ..._**

* * *

_You say that it's not your fault_

_And swear that I am mistaken_

_You said it's not what it seems_

_No remorse for the trust you're breaking._

_ ~Blackout, Linkin Park._

* * *

Brennan was running again. She'd opted for a long sleeve Under Armor body fit shirt in anticipation for the cooler morning, but decided to stick with just a pair of running shorts. She hated running in pants – she couldn't get past the feeling that they restricted her legs. They were well into the first week of November, however, and she was quickly resigning herself to the knowledge that she was either going to have to get over her hatred of running pant, or finally join one of those gyms. As it was, the mornings were definitely getting cooler: she knew that only the physical exertion of running was keeping her warm. She didn't mind, though, because the cool breeze felt good against her heated and flushed skin.

She felt good today. She felt calm, and although the day had only just begun, she was optimistic that it would be a good day. She had a few final reports to finish and send to Booth before the day was over, and the sooner she finished those the sooner she could get back to working on the remains in Limbo. Her plan for the day was clear, and easy, something that always made her feel better. No matter what was happening in the outside world, no matter how crazy or complicated things in her life got, her work and her time were two things she would always have complete control over.

As her feet pummeled the ground below her, and the music pounded a steady rhythm in her ears, Brennan felt oddly energized in a way that she had not felt for some time. There were so many things that still didn't make sense to her, so many things that upset or worried or confused her still, but she felt like she was finally making progress. The time she'd spent with her Dad and Russ had been good, she surmised, and it had been a welcome break from the chaos that entangled the other half of her life. She'd called Angela a few nights before and told her of her plan to buy a house – her friend had been a little sad at first because she was essentially moving farther away from her, but the artist had perked up immensely when Brennan had explained that she wanted Angela to help her house hunt. She hadn't mentioned it then, but Brennan also planned to ask her best friend to help her decorate said house. Her friendship with Angela was something else that made Brennan feel better – Angela had always been there for her, even though she was now married and expecting.

She made the final turn in the direction of the office, and she could see the doors to the Medico-Legal lab from where she was. Almost of their own accord, her strides lengthened and she put on a burst of speed. She shot past the doors and slowed to a walk, putting both arms on top of her head to help slow her breathing. She smiled to herself without really knowing why; she chalked it up to a feeling of accomplishment from her morning workout and headed inside. She pulled one ear bud out of her ear from habit, but left the other one in as she made her way to her office. She was quietly humming along with the song that was playing as she headed for her office door, and her mind wandered over thoughts of houses and decorating and weekends with Russ. So engrossed in these thoughts, she did not notice or mark it as odd that every light in her office was on.

She went straight to her desk, her attention fixed on the iPod dock as she pulled the armband off of her arm and started to dig the iPod out of its case.

"Hey."

The voice was low and warm and as familiar to her as any one voice could be, but none of that registered. In a very un-Brennan like moment, she simultaneously screamed and threw her iPod and spun around to face the intruder all at the same moment. Her heart racing, blood pounding like war drums in her ears, Brennan's gaze fell on a perfectly immobile Booth. He had stood up from her couch, but whatever movement he'd been about to make next was halted. For several seconds that felt like years, they simply stared at each other.

Booth dissolved into hysterical, gut wrenching laughter. He could barely breathe for the hilarity of it all, and he could make no protest as his partner yelled "Booth!" in what was obviously meant to be a threatening tone. He tried to apologize, but couldn't manage to speak around the fit of laughter. Brennan only kept up the pretense of frustration for a few more seconds, and then a smile split the seriousness and she began to laugh with him.

Booth took several deep, calming breaths as the laughter died, and even had to wipe a tear from one of his eyes. He was still grinning, however, and Brennan was grinning at him in response. He headed for the wall directly opposite him, where his partner had chucked her iPod in surprise. He picked the black music player off the floor, looking it over for damage.

"It's not destroyed, is it?" Bones asked as he handed it to her

"There's a small dent in the top corner, but otherwise it's fine," He replied, watching her as she looked it over, "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"What are you doing here?" She asked then, turning and putting her iPod on the docking station

"I can't stop by and see my partner?" He joked, and was rewarded when she smiled again

"That's not what I meant. I'm just curious as to why you're here at six thirty in the morning."

"Couldn't sleep," He replied honestly, shrugging, "Figured I may as well get up and get ready for the day. I figured you'd already be here, and I could drag you out for some breakfast."

She fixed him with an appraising gaze, but he didn't flinch. Instead, he took the excuse to return an appraising gaze himself. She looked nearly radiant, her cheeks tinged rose and her eyes twinkling at him in a way that he hadn't known he missed. He tried to ignore how great she looked in her running gear, the tight black shirt hugging her body in all the right places. He'd never truly appreciated how tall his partner was, and her green running shorts only made her graceful legs look even longer. Not many women could make running look as attractive as Bones did.

"I didn't know you ran," He said gently, to break the silence

"I just started since I've been back, actually," She explained, "I find that strenuous cardio is very stimulating."

Booth laughed and thought about making a response, but it was just too easy. His partner was adorably clueless sometimes at how her seemingly innocent statements could be misconstrued.

"I ran track and cross country in college," Booth told her

"You never told me that," She said simply

"Jock, remember?" He grinned, "I only did it for a few years though."

"Judging from your speed and stamina, I'm certain that you were very good at it."

Booth bit back a laugh again, but couldn't resist the urge to tease her.

"Did you just compliment me, Bones?" He joked

"Although I was merely making a statement based on fact, you are correct in assuming that it was also a compliment."

Booth gave her his best charm smile, and was rewarded when she returned that smile. He was glad that he'd decided (on a whim) to stop by the lab on his way to work. He hadn't lied about not being able to sleep and deciding to drag her to breakfast, but he had withheld the fact that she was the reason he could not sleep, and that breakfast was just an excuse to be near her.

"So what do ya say, Bones? Breakfast?" He asked

"Can I shower first?"

"Of course. Wouldn't want you to stink up the diner."

"I do not stink!" She protested, but she was grinning

"I know, which is kind of odd, actually," He agreed

"Odd? First I stink and now I'm odd?" She challenged

"I didn't say you were odd, I said it's odd that you don't stink," He retorted, grinning widely, "Most people stink after a workout."

"I'm just highly evolved," She responded, and they laughed in unison

"Go shower, stinky. I'll wait here."

* * *

Angela stood up from her desk and headed for her door, following the sounds of a familiar set of voices. She allowed a small, secretive smile to pull up the corners of her mouth as she watched Brennan and Booth make their way through the sliding glass doors of the lab. She'd wondered at how it could be nearly seven thirty in the morning and her friend was absent from the lab, and now she had her answer. The partners were engrossed in each other, and as they got closer she could pick up on their conversation. They were arguing over the merits of being a vegetarian, something Booth apparently swore he could never do.

"You're being ridiculous, Booth," Brennan admonished, "Anyone can be a vegetarian."

"Uh uh, Bones," He answered, shaking his head, "I love meat. I could never give it up."

"You could, you simply choose not to," She corrected

"Nope, not this guy," Booth maintained, "I physically cannot give up meat. I'm telling you."

Brennan fixed him with a curious gaze, and then a smile lit her face that was almost instantly mirrored on her partner's features.

"You're being funny," She stated, and chuckled, "I should have known."

"You're getting better," Booth encouraged, not caring that he was grinning like an idiot

"Morning you two," Angela said then

"Morning, Ange," Brennan replied, heading toward the other woman

"You look great, Ange," Booth complimented, which garnered him a big smile

"Thanks, G-man. It's no thanks to Junior though, I tell you what."

"Junior?" Brennan repeated, "Surely you haven't decided to name your child Junior? You don't even know the sex yet."

Angela laughed. Sometimes, she loved how lost her friend could be.

"Junior is something a lot of people call their unborn kids, Bones," Booth explained

"Why?" She asked, thoroughly confused

"Because no one wants to call it 'the kid' or 'my unborn baby' for nine months," Angela answered

"Does Hodgins refer to your child as Junior?" Brennan asked again

"No, he prefers Cletus the Fetus," Angela replied seriously

Booth laughed at the ridiculousness of it, not at all disbelieving. Angela chuckled as well, and Brennan simply looked at the two of them as though she were afraid for their mental stability.

"So do we have a case?" Angela asked after they had recovered

"Nope, just stopped by to drag Bones to breakfast," Booth answered easily

"Oh, you just reminded me that I brought breakfast this morning. I'm gonna go eat, let you guys get back to doing whatever it is you were doing. Later kids."

Angela excused herself and nearly ran back into her office at the mention of food. Booth smiled and shook his head, falling into step besides Bones as they headed for her office.

"I see that the food cravings have started," He mused

"Angela does seem to eat more often now," Brennan agreed

"Yeah, I probably wouldn't mention that to her," He advised, laughing, "Women don't really like to be told that their eating too much, and pregnant women are worse."

"Why?" His partner asked

"Are you kidding? Pregnant women are terrifying."

They were in her office now, and as Bones headed for her desk Booth stole a moment to look at her. She still looked tired, but she also looked a little more refreshed. He wondered if it was an effect of her morning run, or if she'd finally managed to get a good night's sleep. Either way, she looked better and he was happy for it.

Brennan was contemplating whether or not now would be a good time to tell Booth that she was moving. She hadn't thought to tell him at all, seeing it as a personal decision that in no way affected him. Angela disagreed however, and had only agreed to help Brennan with the house hunting if she agreed to tell Booth about her plans to move. She'd argued, of course, but Angela had been firm. She was about to say something when she was interrupted by the ringing of Booth's cell phone. She stayed quiet and watched her partner as he flipped open the phone, trying to stay busy and not eavesdrop on his conversation. She occupied herself by sitting at her computer and pulling up the half finished reports for the FBI, intending to finish typing them after Booth left.

"That was Hannah," Booth told her, pocketing his cell phone, "She asked to meet me here."

Brennan tried to ignore the feeling of misgiving that tightened her stomach. The last time Hannah had come to the lab had ended in disaster, and Brennan was not in a hurry to relive another such event any time soon. She could see that worry reflected on Booth's face, although he tried to hide it.

"How is Hannah?" She inquired politely

"She's fine," Booth responded, but his tone was lacking

"Booth?" She prodded, unsure of how to proceed but feeling like she should, "Is everything okay?"

The FBI Agent looked at his partner, at the very real concern that dominated her expression and felt a surge of warmth for her. Whatever she felt, whatever thoughts she had on the subject of him and his live in girlfriend, Bones had never failed to be anything but supportive of him. Sometimes he thought her heart was so big it put the rest of them to shame.

"Hannah and I … have been arguing a lot, lately," He explained haltingly, unsure if he should be telling her

"Arguing is not only natural in a committed relationship, it's healthy," Bones responded easily

Her response actually surprised him. Somehow he had not expected her answer to be so reassuring; honest, yes, but he had expected something more along the lines of an anthropology lesson on why people argue or what it meant. Instead, she had replied with something that he would expect to hear from Sweets, or Angela, and it had surprised him. He thought about what Cam and Sweets had told him, about how much his partner had learned and grown, and he felt proud.

"Thanks, Bones."

"I didn't do anything," She countered, but he just smiled and shook his head, "Is it prying to ask what you have been fighting about?"

"That's the thing, I have no idea."

"How do you fight, but have no idea what you're fighting about?" She challenged

"You know, when you start fighting over little things that don't matter. 'Nothing fights', Pops calls them."

"Nothing fights?" Brennan repeated

"Yeah. Ya know, like you'll get into a big fight over something stupid, like whether or not the toilet seat was put down. Pops used to say that what you're really fighting about has nothing to do with whatever you're fighting about on the surface."

"I don't know what that means," His partner replied, and then hurried on, "But I think I know what you are trying to say."

"You do?" He asked in surprise

"Yes, although I don't really have any advice to give you on the matter. Maybe you should talk to Sweets."

"Sweets is just a kid," Booth countered with his best petulant child tone, "He's probably never even had an adult relationship."

"He's a very smart kid," Brennan shot back, "And his relationship with Ms. Wick was very adult. They were engaged, which is something I feel comfortable saying that even you would consider 'adult'."

"I hate it when you do that," He told her, but that crooked grin was in place

"Do what?" She asked

"Make a point that I can't argue with."

"So, as Angela would say, does that mean I win?"

She unknowingly gave him the most innocent, cutest look he could imagine, to which he could only respond with a chuckle and another shake of his head. He had laughed more in the few hours they'd spent together that morning than the last few weeks combined. He forgot how good it felt to be in her presence, and how easy it was to laugh when she was around.

"We'll call it a stale mate," He acquiesced

Just then he glanced out his partner's office doors, and just in time to see Hannah round the corner into the lab. She looked around for a minute, no doubt trying to find him. He stood from his seat on Bones' couch and headed toward her, intending to bring her back to the office.

"Hey," He greeted softly

"Hi," She answered, smiling

"So what's up?"

Booth was aware of Brennan coming to stand just behind him, and he wasn't sure if he should let her stay or ask for some privacy. He didn't have the slightest inkling what was going on in his girlfriend's mind, so this could literally be about anything. He was a little nervous, seeing as how her last well intended surprise had pretty much blown up in his face, but he tried to hide the nervousness.

"Well, I know that we've been having a hard time lately," She started, apparently unconcerned with Bones' presence, "And that we've kind of been arguing over stupid stuff, so I thought I would try and make it up to you."

"Make it up to me how?" He asked, a strange sinking feeling in his stomach

"Well, I wanted to do something big, and nice, because I feel like I've been kind of a bitch lately, but I couldn't think of anything. And then it just came to me the other day – it took all my skill as a journalist, and every nosy bone in my body, but I did it!"

She was smiling, obviously proud of herself and whatever it was that she had managed to accomplish. Behind Booth, Bones schooled her expression into one of blank easiness. She wondered what could make the other woman look so triumphant, but refrained from guessing.

"There's someone here to see you," Hannah said softly

She may have said more, but the world faded away as the glass doors slid open in front of him. The man who walked in was tall, with dark hair that was cropped short and a strong jaw line. He was older, thinner, but Booth recognized him easily. He was certain that his heart had stopped beating, and that he was no longer breathing; he could do nothing but stare. He was rooted to his spot, Hannah before him and Bones behind him, and all he could do was stare wordlessly at the father he had not seen in years.

This could not be happening. He wanted to shut his eyes, count to ten, and then open them again to find the last minute or so completely erased. He didn't want to be looking at the man who'd left him and his brother, who'd beaten him in a drunken stupor all those years ago. He didn't want to see that face, so painfully like his own, staring back at him with that damn satisfaction.

"You look great, Son."

Behind him, Bones sucked in air in an inaudible gasp. She'd recognized the similarities instantly, had been certain of the stranger's identity, but somehow hearing him speak made it real. He looked a lot like Booth, his voice a deeper mirror of her partner's. Her mind flashed to every story Booth had ever told her about his dad, and her thoughts stuck on Hank's confession in the Founding Fathers. This was the man who'd beat his sons, his own flesh and blood – her partner.

"What are you doing here?" Booth managed to grind out

"Hannah found me," He said simply, smiling at the blonde woman

"I remembered you saying that you hadn't spoken to your dad in years," Hannah explained, "And I did a little digging. It took a little time, but I finally found him, in Maryland no less."

Hannah was a smart woman. She did not miss the look on her boyfriend's face, or ignore the palpable tension that suddenly thickened the air. Suddenly her great idea didn't seem like such a great one, but she had no idea why. She had thought that Seeley would be happy for a chance to reconnect with his father, after going more than a decade without hearing from him. She had assumed that they'd had some sort of falling out, but right then the journalist was mentally kicking herself for not finding out exactly what their falling out had been over.

"Aren't you going to say anything, Seeley?" His father asked

"I think you should go," Booth replied tersely

"Wait a minute," Steven Booth said, taking a step toward his son, "Won't you at least give me a chance to explain?"

"Not interested."

"I would like a relationship with you," Steven explained anyway, hurriedly, "And I'd like to get to know my grandson."

"Absolutely not," Booth said quickly, automatically

"I'm your father, Seeley," Steven answered, his tone firm but pleading

"Father's don't beat their children," Brennan spat venomously, unable to stay silent

Brennan caught the look of shock that Hannah gave Booth out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored it. Apparently the story of what had really happened with his father was not one Booth had ever shared with his girlfriend, something that she did not blame him for trying to keep quiet. His childhood was something Booth rarely ever spoke about, even with her. Brennan was angry with Hannah, although she knew rationally that she had no right to be. The other woman had made a mistake – she had no way of knowing what happened between father and son. She'd genuinely been trying to do something nice and thoughtful for her boyfriend, only to have it blow up in her face. In a way, Brennan felt a little sorry for the other woman. She was trying, but her efforts only ended in disaster.

"Who are you?" Steven said coldly, narrowing his eyes at her, "And what makes you think you can speak to me like that?"

"This is my lab," Brennan retorted flippantly, "I'll say whatever I want."

"I don't see how any of this is your business," Steven shot back, an air of clear dismissal around him

"Booth is my business," She said quickly, without thinking, her voice raising

They were starting to draw a crowd. Angela, who's office was closest to the front doors, had stepped out of her office when she saw Hannah arrive; Cam had started to head their way, but stopped dead when she'd caught sight of Booth's father. Brennan ignored all of it, her attention focused on the man in front of her. Generally, Brennan tried not to but in where she didn't belong. This truly had nothing to do with her, and the decision was Booth's on whether or not he wanted to get to know his father again. She had resigned herself to silence, but the longer she stared at Steven Booth the harder it was to keep her thoughts to herself. Hate was a strong word, her mother had told her once, but Brennan was fairly certain that she hated the man standing before her now. All she could think about was a young Seeley Booth, crying and covering his face as his father beat him. She had no way of knowing if it had happened that way, but she didn't care. Her automatic response was to defend her partner, even against his own father, even if it was irrational.

"Who the hell is this woman?" Steven asked, glancing between Hannah and his son

"Bones is my partner," Booth said, his voice finally obeying him, "And she deserves your respect."

Steven looked incredulous that his son would even suggest such a thing. He looked from an obviously defiant Brennan to a tense and resigned Seeley, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"Look, Seeley, I'm here because I'd like a chance to get to know my sons. I've changed – sober for ten years now. I'd really like a chance to make up for what I did to you, and to Jared."

Booth couldn't think of what to say. He felt stuck – no, that wasn't right. He felt as if he wanted to run, only to find out that his legs were broken. He felt caged, and the feeling only fueled the anger and confusion running rampant through him. He was a fully grown man, a deadly shot, an accomplished Agent and a proud father, yet somehow the sight of his dead beat dad made him feel like a terrified school boy once more. He was enraged that this man could just waltz into his life and trap him, just as he'd done that night so long ago. He couldn't think, couldn't process what was happening around him or make himself function the way he knew he should. This was a nightmare worse than any he could have ever imagined.

A small, satin smooth hand latched onto his. He knew the feel of that hand, had held it and touched it many times. The effect was immediate, stealing over him quietly and completely. Strength seemed to ebb and flow from her fingertips, flooding over him in gentle waves. Her touch grounded him, rescued him from the cage that had been closing in on him.

"Booth," She said softly, squeezing his hand, "You don't have to do this now."

He looked at her, those ocean blue eyes wide and staring at him. She was worried for him, the concern written clearly all over her porcelain features. There was no judgment there, no disdain for his lack of strength or confusion over his sudden inability to speak. She knew, she understood what this meant for him. His unfailingly loyal, supportive partner was right there with him, ready to defend him against his own father.

"I'd appreciate it if you would leave me alone with my son," Steven said pointedly, glaring at her

"She stays," Booth said before Bones could answer

"This is ridiculous!" Steven said in frustration, tossing up his hands, "I'm here for you, Seeley!"

"You don't even know me," Booth responded, anger coloring his tone

"Which is why I'm here, asking for a chance to get to know you," Steven challenged, "But your damn guard dog won't quit attacking me!"

"I am not a dog," Brennan hissed, for once picking up on the metaphor, "And I tend not to like people who injure my partner."

"Seeley," Hannah whispered then, mortified at what was unfolding before him, "I'm so sorry, I had no idea …"

"It's okay," Booth said automatically, and he mostly meant it

Cam had finally overpowered her surprise and strode meaningfully into the group. She came to stand next to Steven, crossing her arms and schooling her expression into one of neutrality.

"I'm going to have break this little party up," She said coolly, "You're disrupting my lab."

She was staring at Steven, her tone firm and her expression stern. She did not want this man in her lab any longer – she could see how painful his presence was on Seeley, and that alone would have been enough. She had not been lying – his presence was disrupting her lab. Even from across the room, she could see Dr. Brennan's protectiveness had kicked in and was threatening to take over. Their raised voices had brought work to a complete standstill as all eyes turned to see what was going on; this could turn in to a natural disaster if she didn't stop it, now.

"I'm asking you to leave, Mr. Booth," She said evenly, "You can finish this conversation somewhere else."

Steven glanced from his son's horrified girlfriend, to his protective partner, to the other woman who was apparently the boss. He knew when he was defeated, and he put up a hand in surrender.

"I'm going," He agreed, but he pulled a card out of his pocket, "This is the number for the hotel I'm staying at. I would really like to hear from you, Seeley. Can I get a ride, Hannah?"

"Uh, sure," Hannah agreed, glancing quickly at Seeley, "I'll be right back."

Booth watched his father and his girlfriend disappear through the doors, still reeling from the shock of it all. One hand clutched the card his father had given him, but he did not look at it. The other hand squeezed of its own accord, and he felt an answering squeeze. Bones had never let go of his hand. He glanced at her, then at Cam and mouthed a thank you. She nodded tersely in response, trying to give him an encouraging smile. He looked at Bones again, taking in the angry flush of her cheeks that was only now beginning to fade.

"I'm sorry," She said then, "I tried to stay quiet, but he just made me so mad …" She trailed off

"It's okay, Bones," He replied, managing a weak smile

"What now?" She asked

Booth fixed his gaze on the glass doors again, replaying the last few minutes in his mind. That was the question of the century, wasn't it? He already had one hugely chaotic mess to deal with; another one was exactly what he did not need.

"I have no idea," He said simply

* * *

**_So? Surprised? Also, I'm just curious if anyone bothers to read the lyrics at the top, or even *gasp* listen to the songs? I'm just curious ... I personally think that listening to the song either before or while you read the chapter only enhances the experience, but that's just me. :) _**


	10. Hiding in the Light

**_Author's Note: So, I'm not sure that I like this chapter. I can't pinpoint why though. Eh, whatever. I'd like to say that although I want Hannah to disappear, and things to go back to the way they were with B&B, I don't actually hate Hannah. She kinda annoys me sometimes, but I don't think she's the root of all evil. So I let her explain herself a little this chapter, because I believe that she truly does care about Booth. I'm still a die hard B/B shipper though, so I'll go ahead and tell you that she's about to make her exit! YAY! And as always, thank you immensely for the great reviews!_**

* * *

_I'm giving up the ghost of love_

_In the shadows cast on devotion_

_She is the one that I adore_

_Queen of my silent suffocation._

_ ~Bittersweet, Apocalyptica_

* * *

Hannah was pacing a rut into the living room carpet. Every few seconds she'd pull her bottom lip into her mouth, bite it several times, and then let it go again. She'd imagined at least a hundred different scenarios in the short time she'd been home, and each one only made her feel more anxious. She glanced at her watch again, even though she had just checked it moments before. She tried to figure this out, tried to make sense of just how and when she had gotten here, but her brain refused to work.

Hannah was a smart woman – she knew she was. She was good with people, had an abundance of common sense, and a warm heart. She was never one to toot her own horn, but she also believed in being your own cheerleader. All of these were things that she used in her life every day, and part of the reason she believed she made such a great journalist. Lately, though, none of these things seemed to balance themselves out. Every effort she had made had ultimately failed, if not ended in complete disaster. Every time she tried to share what she considered the best parts of herself with her boyfriend and his friends, things just blew up in her face. She was bewildered, and at a complete loss for what she was supposed to do now. Things between her and Seeley had felt strained lately, and she had truly had nothing but the best of intentions when it came to tracking down his dad. Her love for him, and the desire to make some grand gesture of love had blinded her, something that had never happened before. She had been so intent on doing something amazing for him, that she had apparently left all that common sense of hers on the curb.

Frustrated, the journalist huffed and sat down heavily on the couch. Her gaze fell on the end table, and on the old black phone that rested there. The sight of it instantly made her think of Temperance, and she replayed over and over again how the scientist had reacted to Booth's dad. She'd been protective, almost downright feral to the older Booth. In her short time here, Hannah had never seen the other woman so passionate. She was certain that, had Steven Booth even tried to so much as touch his son, Temperance Brennan would have ripped him apart. She thought of how the sight of his father had frozen Seeley to the place where he stood, and the look of anguished disbelief that had shadowed his handsome face. As her thoughts traveled down that path, she recalled how Temperance had taken his hand, and that small act had seemingly brought him back to himself.

Hannah stared at the old phone even harder, as if at any moment it might stand up off the end table and answer every question she could think to ask. As she regarded the telephone, the memory of just whose idea it was to give it to him replaying itself in her mind, Hannah's heart hurt. There were many things she knew about Seeley, but she knew without a doubt that they were nowhere near as many as Temperance knew. For every one step she took with Seeley, she still felt as if the other woman were ten steps ahead of her. Temperance Brennan had been nothing but civil to her, nice even. She'd been supportive of her relationship with Seeley, and Hannah had never felt as if the two women were in competition. Which was a very good thing, she figured, because Temperance apparently had the advantage.

The sound of the door opening catapulted the blonde woman to her feet in the span of a breath, which she held as she waited for her boyfriend to appear. When he did, he looked tired, and shaken in a way that she wasn't sure she'd ever seen before.

"I'm sorry," She blurted, unable to hold it in, "So sorry, Seeley, for everything."

"It's okay," He replied gently, managing a weak smile

"No, it's not," She insisted, "I made a huge mistake. I jumped to conclusions and never bothered to get the real story, and you got hurt in the process."

Booth's nerves felt raw, a sensation he hadn't experienced in quite some time. He also felt exhausted, and emotionally drained in a way that he hated. He did not want to accept that even now, the very sight of his father rendered him immobile and speechless. He was a grown man, damn it, not a scared child. He pushed the thought away and focused on his girlfriend again. She was worried, and apologetic, and mortified at the way her surprise had panned out. He could not say that he was angry with her, because he knew that she had truly been trying to do something nice for him.

He moved to the couch, pulling the petite blonde woman down with him. He took a deep breath, trying to relax the achingly tense muscles between his shoulder blades. Truth be told, he didn't really want to do this right now. He wanted to let the shock numb him, if only for awhile, and forget the disaster and chaos that was currently his life. But he knew that Hannah would not let this go until she'd apologized profusely, and made her guilt known, so it was better to just get it over with now.

"I appreciate the thoughtfulness behind what you were trying to do," He said gently, "But not why you did it."

"I just thought, ya know, that it would be a nice surprise. Not just some meaningless bauble off a department store shelf, but an honest to God gift from the heart."

"I work for the FBI, Hannah," He reminded her, "It's my job to find people. Did you ever stop to think that if I wanted a relationship with my father, I could have found him years ago?"

"I didn't really think it through, Seeley, I know that," She explained hurriedly, "But I just figured that you'd fought over something stupid when you were younger, and that either your pride or his kept you from making amends. Or maybe that you were angry with him for leaving your family. I honestly never thought it would be something like … well …"

She let her sentence hang, unable to finish the thought. Seeley had never told her that his father beat him, and the thought of it now was unbearable. She had thought Steven Booth was a nice guy when she'd picked him up from the airport; she never would have pegged him for a man who abused his children. There was still so much about the man in front of her that she did not know.

Booth didn't bother to ask why she had never asked him about it. Although he had told her that his dad left when he was younger, and that he had been raised by his grandfather, he had never said more on the subject. Even if she had asked, he would have found a way not to answer. His childhood was not something he liked to think about, and something he liked to share even less. In fact, Bones was probably the only person he had told since Rebecca.

"What even gave you the idea?" He asked then, curious as to how she had arrived at the decision

"My mother always used to tell me this story," His girlfriend began, smiling softly to herself, "About how when she agreed to marry my father, my grandfather was irate. He swore he'd never speak to her again, but she married him anyway. True to his word, several years passed where they didn't speak a single word to each other. My father could see how much it hurt my mother to not speak to grandpa, so he went to my grandfather's house one day and begged him to talk to my mother."

This story was obviously very dear to Hannah's heart; her voice had gotten softer, and she told the story with an obvious inflection of reverence in her tone. The way she had it memorized told Booth that this was a story she had heard many times.

"And did he?" Booth prodded

"It took a lot of sweet talking from my dad, but, yeah. Grandpa agreed to go home with him, and he and my mother reconciled. Grandpa even moved closer to us after that. Anyway, my mother always told me that that single event was one of the things that she loved most about my father. I've never forgotten that story."

"And you wanted to do that for me," Booth stated, smiling

"Yes," Hannah agreed, feeling like she might cry

Booth pulled his girlfriend into a hug, and she clung to him tightly. Above her head, Booth let the façade slip from his face. He could not be mad at her, especially when the effort had such great personal meaning for Hannah, but a very quiet voice in the back of his mind whispered that this would have never happened with Bones. A true statement, but an unfair one since Bones knew the whole story. Still, it was quickly becoming impossible for Booth to ignore the huge gaps between his relationship with Hannah and his relationship with Bones. What had started out as relief and excitement at being able to start fresh was rapidly deteriorating into dismay. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore just how much work and effort and time he had put into his relationship with Bones, and he was no longer certain that he had the energy – or desire – to start over.

Booth had reached a fork in the proverbial road, and he had no idea how to proceed. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he had given up on Bones too soon, and that despite all of his best efforts, he still loved her deeply. On the other hand, he truly cared for Hannah, and wasn't sure that he could dig himself out of the mess he'd made if he tried. No matter how he looked at it, someone was going to end up hurt.

* * *

Brennan was completely unfocused, and for once she didn't fight it. In fact, she welcomed the completely uncharacteristic phenomenon. She sat at her desk, her chin in her hand, staring blankly at the opposite wall. Outside her closed door, life in the lab buzzed and carried on without her. For now, she was content to ignore it completely.

She felt as though she were thinking of many things, and absolutely nothing at the same time. Her thoughts tumbled and collided in the vastness of her genius brain, flitting from one subject to another in an almost nonsensical fashion. Mostly she thought of Booth, wondered how he was feeling and dealing with the sudden appearance of his father. She'd try to focus on the thought, but it wriggled and squirmed and replaced itself with another thought before she could pin it down.

So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Privately, Brennan couldn't help feeling like Hannah was a tornado, whisking itself into her life and leaving nothing but chaos in her wake. So much of her life had been disrupted since the intrepid journalist had appeared in D.C., and Brennan wasn't sure how much more she could handle. Every time she turned around something else was being uprooted, and Temperance had never dealt well with such a loss of control over her own life. She felt as if there was no peace to be found and was beginning to wonder if this was how things were going to be now that Hannah was a permanent fixture in Booth's life.

A knock on her office door startled her enough to make her visibly jump, and her gaze turned sharply to the door. Her heart undeniably fell when she saw Hannah, who pushed open the door hesitantly.

"Hi, Temperance."

"Hello, Hannah," She greeted cordially, keeping her tone even

"I was wondering if you had a minute to talk."

Feeling certain that there was absolutely nothing for them to talk about, Brennan just nodded and gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

"What would you like to talk about?" Brennan queried, straight to the point

"What happened the other day, with Seeley's dad," Hannah began, "I made a mistake."

"Yes," Brennan agreed easily, "Your judgment was erroneous on that point."

"Right, but that whole thing could have been avoided if Seeley would just open up to me."

"I'm not sure I understand," Brennan said haltingly, unsure if she liked where this was going

"He's just so closed off sometimes, I can't help but feel like there's this whole part of him that I don't know. He never talks about his childhood, or his past, or even about you! Every time I try and get him to talk to me about it, he just clams up or changes the subject."

"This sounds like something you should talk to Sweets about, Hannah," Brennan said then, hoping to stop this conversation, "I am not very good at relationships."

"You're his best friend, Temperance. You know him better than anyone. I'm sure Sweets is great, but you're the one I want to talk to."

"I'm not sure what you're asking of me," Brennan replied skeptically

"I just … sometimes it feels like Seeley has this wall, and you're the only one he'll let past it. And I guess I just want to know how you do it, or what I'm doing wrong."

Hannah's answer could not have come as more of a surprise. Brennan had always been told she was the one with the walls, that she was the one who was difficult to get close to. Although she knew that Booth could not be rushed into revealing anything that he did not want to, she had always just accepted that as a part of who he was. She didn't think of it as withholding anything, she simply concluded that he would tell her things when he was ready. To hear his girlfriend describe him as guarded and closed off, well … Brennan had actually thought he was the exact opposite with his girlfriend. After all, they were talking about the Seeley Booth who had shied away from any topic of discussion that even sounded like sex, only to come back from the desert and listen and grin like a fool while his new girlfriend talked about their sex life in the middle of a restaurant.

Meanwhile, in the world outside Brennan's office, Booth strode purposefully through the double doors of the lab. He'd spent a lot of time thinking about everything that had happened, and the more he thought about it the more it confused him. His nerves were still raw, and for once Hannah's presence did nothing to help. He'd gotten up that morning with an express desire to see his partner, and spend time with her in whatever capacity he could. He'd gone straight to his office, going through his morning routine hurriedly. He'd checked his inter office email, finished the one expense report that he'd been putting off for several days, and then made a beeline for the lab. He had no set plan on what he was going to do when he got there, but he didn't really care.

"Hey, G-man," Angela greeted, falling into step beside him, "How you holding up?"

"I've been better," He admitted, "Thought I'd stop in and see Bones. She in her office?"

"Yeah, I'm actually just taking her a few printouts now."

"Reconstruction for a body in Limbo?" He asked conversationally

"Nah, just a few fliers for some pretty sweet looking houses I'd thought she'd like," Angela replied offhandedly

Booth stopped walking, which drew Angela's attention. She also stopped and turned to look at him, confused at the sudden change of pace.

"Bones is moving?" He asked in a dangerously low tone

"Yeah, to be closer to Russ and Amy. Didn't she tell you? She said she was going to tell you."

Angela could tell by the betrayed look on Booth's face that Brennan had done no such thing. The artist's heart sunk as she realized the bomb she had just dropped on him, and not 48 hours after the incident with his father. She wanted to apologize, to take back everything she'd said, but the damage had been done. She had made Brennan promise that she would tell Booth of her plans to move, and she couldn't believe that Brennan had backed out of it.

A loud _crack_ reverberated somewhere in Booth's chest. The armor that he'd guarded himself with for so many years, and reinforced so well in the last few months had finally failed him. The weight of everything that had happened since he'd come back from the desert had finally caused it to implode upon itself, leaving nothing but a gaping black nothingness in his soul. All the things that had gone wrong, all the chances that he'd missed and all the disasters that had been trying so fervently to unsettle him finally won out. His world narrowed, his mind seizing on the information that Bones was going to move. She was finally going to buy a house, and she wasn't even going to tell him. Worse than that, she was going to move away from him – she was going to physically separate herself from him. All of their talk about making it work, her promise that she truly wanted to fix whatever had gone wrong in their partnership no longer mattered. She was going to leave him behind – again.

His heart, that wounded and desperately vulnerable muscle that he claimed to know so much about, screamed and raged in protest. He was being unfair, he was being irrational, he did not give a rat's ass. This was too much. Later he would wonder how he'd managed to let her go all the way to Indonesia for what was supposed to be a year, and yet the thought of her buying a house and physically moving away from him sent him over the edge. Now was not that time, however; now, he was a man who had been dealt one too many terrible surprises in too short a time.

Booth's deadly gaze found and locked on to his partner through the glass of her office door. Tunnel vision set in, and without so much as a word or glance in Angela's direction, Booth stalked toward the office he knew so well.

Whether by fate or coincidence, Hannah had stood from the chair and paced her way to the back of the room, against the wall directly opposite Bones. She seemed to be mulling something over, and both women were too preoccupied to notice Booth's approach until he literally exploded into the room.

"What the hell are you thinking!" He yelled, unable to control himself

"What?" Brennan replied, to shocked to say more

"I just ran into Angela," He ranted, "And, come to find out, you're moving!"

Brennan's heart plummeted at his words. She had never told him about her plans to buy a house; she'd promised Angela that she would, and she had meant to the other day before his dad showed up. After that, she had completely forgotten about her impending plans to move.

"Booth," She started, keeping her voice low and calm

Booth, however, was apparently not having any of it.

"Not only are you moving," He continued, "You're moving farther away!"

"Away from what?" She repeated, confused and trying not to be defensive

"From everything, Bones, from Angela, from the lab, from me!"

"Booth, can you just calm down so we can talk about …"

"NO!" He shot back, cutting her off

Brennan had never seen her partner this angry before. She'd seen him upset, frightened, frustrated, and any number of other things, but she'd never before seen him so ready to burst. He took several quick steps toward her, coming to stand across the desk from her. She was not afraid of him, although he was very intimidating in his current state, but she had absolutely no idea how to handle an obviously irate Seeley Booth.

"You can't move," He said firmly

"What?" She replied, the first signs of anger coloring her tone

"You. Can't. Move." He repeated, punctuating each word

"Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" She challenged

"It's not happening."

"You're being ridiculous, Booth," She chided tersely

"I mean it, Bones," He threatened, and her face flushed angrily in response, "What about the other day, when you said you wanted to work on our partnership?"

"That has nothing to do with this," She insisted

"The hell it doesn't! You're literally separating us, putting distance between us. How are we going to work on anything then?"

"You're not making any sense," And she shook her head, "We'll still work together, we'll still be partners, and we can work on things. Just like we agreed."

"You didn't even tell me," He hissed, and his anger had not abated

"I was going to!" She protested loudly, "The other day, when we went to breakfast. But I didn't know how, and then your father came back and …"

"You're not moving!" He restated

"Why not?" She yelled back, her temper and confusion getting the best of her

"Because you'll change everything!" He finally admitted, slamming his fists down on her desk and leaning across the gap toward her

"You already changed it!" She spat out, unwittingly leaning toward him in response, "I didn't have to do anything! You said you were moving on, and you did. Now it's my turn, this is me moving on!"

"By leaving me? By putting literal miles between us? How is that fair?"

"Who said anything about fair?"

They were in each other's faces now, chocolate eyes sparking and igniting the flame in azure. Despite their proximity to each other, neither their voices nor their anger had abated. They were in the heat of it now, neither sure if they were fighting for or against each other. Anger and confusion and sadness quarreled with each other, then melded together and added their strength to a myriad of other emotions.

"How was it fair to ask me to take a chance on the one thing that I can't stand to lose?" She accused, "You wanted me to gamble everything in the hopes that it _might_ work out. And how was it fair to turn right around and tell me that you had to move on, when seconds before you spouting off how you just 'knew'?"

"That has nothing to do with this!" He retaliated

"It has everything to do with it! You changed it, you changed everything. You got what you wanted, and now I'd like to try and do the same. Now you come charging in here, yelling about how you forbid me to move! You accuse me of being unfair, yet you're the one who demanded an answer without giving me any time to think! You gave up, Booth, you gave up on us – on me."

"You rejected me! I told you I loved you, promised you thirty or forty or fifty years, and you shot me down! What did you want me to do?"

Something in her expression had changed. She was still angry, still prepared to fight until she was breathless, but the look on her face was different. Before she had simply been angry at being attacked, at the way he was trying to impose his will upon her, but now … now the anger was different. Older somehow, as if it were an anger that she had grown accustomed to. Underneath that anger was something akin to despair, and that more than anything seemed to reach out to him.

"You never said that," She said, the anger fading

"Said what?"

"You never said you loved me," She pointed out

"Yes I did," He protested, "I told you I knew, that I was _that guy_ …"

"You made me all the promises," She agreed, her voice suddenly heavy, "Except that one."

Hunched over her desk, his face literally only inches away from hers, he could see every nuance in her expression. He could see the defeat in her eyes, and in his single mindedness that emotion seemed to reach out and slap him. Only as he came back to the world around them did he realize that he'd somehow just gotten some kind of confession from her, just discovered some secret that she had managed to keep hidden. His brain tried to make the connection, tried to pick up on whatever clue she had so unwillingly left for him, but nothing made sense.

Behind him, the sound of someone clearing their throat made Booth's blood run cold.


	11. A Bittersweet Surrender

**_Author's Note: Firstly, I want to say a heartfelt thank you to my fellow brothers and sisters at arms. Take a moment this Veteran's Day and remember the fallen, the ones they left behind, and those who continue to serve. Myself and my fellow military members have written a blank check to not only the U.S., but to you as well, and it is payable to the highest price - our lives. So even if you don't support war, or believe in the reasons for it, support and believe in the men and women who serve - they deserve it._**

**_Now that I've said my piece, get ready for the next chapter! I have to say that I really like this chapter, and I really love Hannah in this. *GASP* What did I just say? Well, read for yourselves and see. XD Look forward to hearing your thoughts._**

**_With Love,_**

**_Jessica, USAF and Proud!_**

* * *

_Time to tell me the truth_

_To burden your mouth for what you say_

_No pieces of paper in the way_

_Cause I can't continue pretending to choose_

_These opposite sides on which we fall_

_The loving you laters if at all._

_ ~Between the Lines, Sara Bareilles_

* * *

_One._

Booth closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply, concentrating on the feeling of his chest and diaphragm expanding with the intake of air. He fought desperately to reign in his rampant emotions, which had just added dread to its long list. He tried to school his expression into an impassive one, but it took great effort. He knew, rationally, that it could be anyone standing behind him. His gut, however, that infallible but intangible thing that had never failed him, told him otherwise.

_Two._

Every ounce of will power Brennan had was devoted to keeping her where she was. She wanted to run, to bolt out that door in a flash movement and disappear for awhile. Booth's rampage had wiped her mind completely clear of the fact that Hannah was still in her office – that one small sound had brought the world back to her, though, and she was terrified. So much of her, so much of their past and their relationship had been laid bare on the table, and she had heard it all. Brennan did not want to face the reality of the situation; she did not want to own her vulnerability.

_Three._

Hannah's heart hammered against her ribs with a vengeance. She wondered if her face betrayed the tangle of thoughts and emotions that warred within her. There had been no time to announce her presence, no time to diffuse the situation. Seeley had stormed in with eyes only for his partner, and started yelling almost before he was in the door. And then they had both promptly forgotten her, and she was left immobile against the wall. Their truths had bled out of both of them only too quickly, and she had been helpless to ignore it. She'd tried to keep up with the flood of information as it threatened to overpower her, but it was too strong. There was just too much to take in, and the longer she listened, the more her heart sank.

Booth turned very slowly, his eyes finding his girlfriend immediately. For all his yelling only moments before, he could not find his voice. Standing there, Hannah before him and Bones behind him, the feeling of being ripped in too many different directions assaulted him. God was punishing him – there was no other explanation for what was happening to him. He was quite literally standing between the two women he loved; only now the one undeniably knew about the other, and the past that had never really been the past was now spread out for all to see.

"Hannah …"

His voice sounded distant, as if he were speaking to her from across a very expansive canyon. He searched for something to say, but nothing came to mind. He could see the disbelief and pain plainly on his girlfriend's face, and his heart ached. This was not the way she should have to find out, although he'd hoped she would never find out at all. There was so much they needed to discuss, so much he needed to explain. Behind him, he could feel Bones' panic as if it were a tangible entity – it radiated off her body almost like waves of heat. He needed to decipher that enigmatic clue he'd just garnered from her, he needed … he didn't know what he needed. He didn't know what to say.

"You said you were just partners," Hannah finally managed to whisper

"We are," Came the response, and Booth was surprised that it came from Bones

"I'd say you're a little more than that," She challenged, her voice getting stronger

"Bones and I have never been together, Hannah," Booth insisted, finally finding his voice

"I beg to differ," She replied, taking a step forward

"He's telling the truth," Brennan agreed, her voice tense

"Do you really believe that?" The blonde woman asked, fixing her gaze on the scientist

"It's the truth," Brennan reiterated

"Not entirely."

"I don't know what that means," She said, her voice fading

Brennan shifted her weight from one foot to the other in agitation. The longer she stood there, the gravity and tenseness of the situation threatening to freeze the breath in her lungs, the more she wanted to flee. She had been unprepared for her partner's assault, and had let things get too far out of hand. She should never have let this happen.

"You may never have slept together," Hannah explained, her tone wavering as she did so, "But you were obviously together. Seeley said you were close, but I see now that his version of close is very different from mine."

"Hannah, please," Booth pleaded, but he wasn't sure what he was pleading for

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked angrily, fixing him with an icy gaze

"What's there to tell?" He replied honestly

"Oh, I don't know, Seeley, how about the fact that you're apparently in love with Temperance?" She almost sneered

"That's not true," Brennan amended quickly, ignoring the way Booth's head snapped around to look at her

"What?" He and Hannah replied in unison, his tone sharp and hers surprised

"While I do believe that Booth loves me, there is a fundamental and undeniable difference between simply loving someone, and being in love with them. Because Booth loves me in the first way, and because of the large amount of time our job requires us to spend together, it is understandable that Booth would confuse that love with a deeper, more romantic one. An error that was corrected as soon as he went to Afghanistan."

Booth's mouth had gone slack, but his eyes pierced her like daggers. Bones did her best to ignore him, instead focusing her attention on Hannah. Bones had made an effort to better her skills at reading people, had made a point of it while in Maluku. She'd studied facial expressions, paid attention to the inflection of people's voices as they became angry or grief stricken, but in this moment she could not make sense of the look on the other woman's face.

"Is that really what you think, Bones?" Booth queried softly, and she could not ignore him

"Yes," She said firmly, blue eyes boring into brown, "As soon as we were apart for an extended length of time, you realized that you did not love me in the way that you thought. Our separation allowed you to reevaluate yourself, and you were able to find someone who you are truly in love with."

Her voice rang with a conviction that he only heard when she knew in her genius brain that she was undoubtedly correct. This was the same tone she used when she told him cause of death, or some other piece of information that she could corroborate with cold hard facts, evidentiary proof. Hearing that tone now, seeing that certainty written all over her porcelain features broke him. Pain and disappointment blossomed in his chest, unfolding exponentially as it took over every secret corner of his eggshell heart; pain that the woman he loved most in the world could think his heart so fickle, and disappointment in himself for giving her proof that it was. He had known that he messed up, and that his relationship with Hannah was going to confuse and complicate things, but he could see now that he had never fully realized just how deep and far reaching the repercussions had travelled.

In that instant, he wanted to grasp her by the shoulders and shake her; he wanted to crush her lips to his and _prove_ just how wrong she was; he wanted to rewind his life, and go back to that night and do it all over again. He could do none of those things, however, and he suddenly felt as if he might go crazy. This woman, this crazy literal scientist with a hidden heart and a genius brain got under his skin and drove him to the very brink of insanity; only to turn around and offer him salvation, and peace like no one else could.

Brennan stood as straight as she could, willing her hands not to shake and her eyes not to water. The truth could be painful, it could leave you wishing for a fantasy world that would never exist, but it was always constant. Truth was constant, and real, and she armored herself with it as if it were impenetrable chainmail.

No one was speaking. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing, but she had an opportunity – and she was taking it.

"I think you should both go," Brennan said definitively, "I'm sure you have much to discuss."

"Bones," Booth began, but the steel in her gaze stopped him

Hannah had exited the office first, and when Booth reached the doorway he turned back. For a fraction of a second, he saw that solid resolve of hers waver. He was going to go back, but she had steeled herself once more, and he found himself locking gazes with an unmovable Temperance Brennan. With a tortured, twisted heart, Booth turned and walked away from his partner without a word.

* * *

The door in front of her buzzed, and the security guard pulled the steel gray slab of metal open and ushered her inside. She stepped in and made her way to the table, sitting automatically while her eyes surveyed the room. She had not been here in a long time; too long, in fact. The room was bare, and clinical in a way that almost reminded her of the lab. The guard was standing just outside the door, she knew, but she was not uneasy here. She did not need brightly colored pictures on the wall to make her feel better, or frivolous decorations to make this place seem less harsh. Temperance Brennan was accustomed to harsh, and barrenness; after all, hadn't she been told countless times that she was harsh? She thought of those pictures gracing Russ' refrigerator, and the lack of pictures adorning her own. Oh no, she was no stranger to barrenness; she only found it odd that somehow she had not recognized it as such until recently.

The door buzzed again, and Brennan stood as it swung open once more.

"Dr. Brennan," Zack said, surprise evident on his face

"Hi, Zack," She greeted, hugging him as he got closer, "I'm sorry that I haven't come to see you in … some time."

"Ten months and one week," Zack stated easily, taking a seat across the table from her

"How have you been?" She questioned, genuinely interested

"Bored. Hodgins has not been by to regale me with stories of the team's latest endeavors. You look distressed, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan tried not to sigh. Her former colleague was observant, even now, and quick to point out his observations.

"It's been a hard day," She admitted truthfully

"Is that why you've come?" Zack asked, but there was no bitterness in his voice

"I came because I've neglected to for the last ten months," She evaded, which was only half of the reason

"You are busy, Dr. Brennan. It is understandable that long periods of time should pass where you will be unable to visit."

Unable to bear the incessant ache in her heart, Brennan fell back on their old ways. She quizzed him, as only one genius to another could: she posited scenarios for him, asked what kind of damage they could expect to see in certain situations, even had him defend his dissertation for her. They fell into their pattern of sharing knowledge simply for the joy of doing it, and Brennan was able to fleetingly forget what had brought her here.

Zack watched his professor from across the table, noting the way her skilled hands seemed to tremble, and the occasional hitch in her voice. One half of his mind fired off answers as she asked question after question, and the other half chewed over what could have unsettled her. Dr. Brennan was a stoic, steady woman that shared his love of logic and science. To him, she was indestructible, a force of nature almost. Now, however, the Dr. Brennan in front of him looked anything but.

There was a certain comfort and safety in this place. One of the things she loved about visiting Zack was the logic. When she was here with him, she did not have to wonder if he meant something different from what he was saying; she didn't have to wonder or worry that there was some underlying context to his words that she needed to discern. There was logic here, and truth, and straight forwardness. Zack understood her, he understood the way she operated and her literalness. Although she hated to admit it, even to herself, this place was like a sanctuary to her; this place, and the companionship of her former student, was like an escape for her.

"What is ailing you, Dr. Brennan?" Zack asked then, as her questions had trailed off

"I am fine, Zack."

"Physically that may be true, but your body shows signs of distress. You're hands are trembling."

Brennan glanced at her traitorous hands, noticing for the first time that they really were trembling. She hated that her body was betraying her in this way, manifesting her anguish in physically noticeable symptoms.

"Has something happened at the lab?" Zack continued

"What hasn't happened?" Brennan responded, almost to herself

"That sounds like a reply worthy of Angela. I do not understand your use of rhetoric, Dr. Brennan."

"There have been many new developments in the lab, Zack, and I find that many of them … confuse me," She replied honestly

"I would be glad to apply the principles of logic to the issue with you …" He offered, but she was shaking her head

"I've tried, Zack, many times. I am beginning to believe that logic may not apply in this instance."

"I do not understand," Zack replied, furrowing his brow

"Neither do I," Brennan replied, sighing

They were quiet for several minutes, and their silence reminded Zack of the way they had sometimes worked side by side in silence for several hours throughout the night. He missed that; he missed everything that was associated with his life before The Master.

"Zack," She said suddenly, "When you switched those canisters … the damage to your hands was doubled because you waited too long to mix the ingredients. Why did you wait?"

"Hodgins was standing too close," He explained, "I had not anticipated such a dilemma."

"But you could have mixed them anyway."

Brennan did not miss the look on the young man's face, as if the very thought of doing so horrified him.

"Hodgins is my friend," He told her, cocking his head slightly, "That was not an acceptable chain of events."

"What if Gormogon had asked you?" She prodded, "What if he had made a logically undeniable case for why you should?"

"There is no logic in hurting the people you care about, Dr. Brennan," Zack said firmly, without thought

Brennan's heart swelled. Somehow, she had known that his answer would run along those lines. She did not know how to say it, but in her heart of hearts, Brennan did not truly believe that Zack had committed the crime he was accused of. He had confessed to it, yes, and she did not doubt that Gormogon had gotten to him. Sitting across from him now, however, witnessing first hand his aversion to harming those he cared about, Brennan did not believe that he had killed that man. She wanted to confront him, ask him very clearly and very directly, but she did not think she was up to it just now. Such a discussion would undoubtedly tax her already strained mental and emotional faculties.

The heavy steel door swung open then, and the security guard stepped inside.

"Visiting time is over," He informed them

Brennan and Zack stood simultaneously. She took a long, hard look at her student – her friend – and then stepped around the table. She pulled him into a hug, squeezing him briefly before letting go again. She gave him the strongest, most reassuring smile she could.

"I'll visit again soon, Zack," She promised

With her jacket slung over her interlocked hands, Brennan headed for the door feeling better than she had when she'd come.

"I'm sorry," Zack blurted suddenly

She stopped her forward motion and half turned to look at him again. He was facing her, gloved hands hanging limply against his sides. For the first time in a long time, Brennan noticed how truly young her former protégé was. She thought then of Sweets, and of how Gordon Gordon had compared him to a baby duck, seeking guidance and acceptance from their family. Perhaps, if she had known earlier, been a better teacher, or a warmer person … perhaps she could have saved this wonderful young man, her original duckling. The thought was a painful one.

"As impossible as I know it is, I would change it," He said softly, "If I could."

"I know, Zack," She replied just as gently, her voice thick with emotion, "Me too."

* * *

She could feel Seeley's eyes on her, but she was not ready yet.

Hannah ignored him, instead continuing her perusal of the apartment they had come to share. She looked over all the pictures adorning the walls, the television, everything that she had come to associate with her boyfriend and their lives together. She made no sound; she had not spoken since they left Temperance's office. She could tell that Seeley had wanted to speak on several occasions, but something always held him back. For once, she was thankful for his silence. She needed time to process things, she needed to gather her thoughts and come to terms with everything. And this time, talking things through was not going to help her. She needed to get through this herself before they could have any kind of conversation.

The silence was physically hurting him. They had driven back to the apartment in their separate cars, and the entire drive he'd spent trying to think of how he was going to rectify things. He tried to figure out how the situation had become so disastrous, and how he was going to balance fixing two relationships. Over and over again he went over everything that had been said between him and Bones, and then his mind would jump to the look on Hannah's face when he'd turned to look at her. Like a CD that had been scratched and kept skipping on the same lyrics, so his mind played and replayed the incident. He wanted to apologize, but he wasn't sure what he wanted to apologize for; he wanted to plead his case, but he didn't know what case it was. So he merely stayed where he was, standing silently in the middle of his living room, waiting.

Hannah's movement took him by surprise. She stood fluidly, her gaze finally finding his face and then locking with his. He tried to discern what she was feeling, tried to decipher the look on her face, but he found himself stumped. She did not look like she was going to blow up at him, but he would not be surprised if she did.

"I think, in a way, that I've known for awhile," She began, her voice soft but firm, "You said you were close, but I just knew that it was more. I just didn't know how much more, I guess."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head quickly.

"Please, Seeley, let me finish. I've had a hunch for awhile now, that I might not be the sole owner of that big heart of yours. I think you've tried to hide it, as much from yourself as from me, but I can see it. From both of you."

"Hannah, what happened between Bones and I, that's in the past."

"Obviously not," She disagreed, but there was no malice in her tone, "I saw you when you stormed into that office, I saw the look on your face. I know this is hard, Seeley, but please don't insult me by trying to deny the truth. For once I need you to be completely, painfully honest with me. You owe me that."

He could only nod. She was right of course, but he knew that he owed her so much more than his honesty. He had wronged her, wronged both of them in his confusion and his utter determination to move on, and now he had to accept that. He would stand here and own up to all of his trespasses, he would face these things like the man Pops had raised him to be.

"When I came to D.C., I knew that it would be hard. I knew that you had a lot of history with these people – especially Temperance. But I was willing to be patient, to make a new history with you, and even them. And when I got here, the welcome was warmer than I'd expected. Your friends were so warm, and everyone tried so hard – especially Temperance. At first, that's all I saw."

Images flashed through her mind as she spoke, fueling her words with the evidence she saw only in hindsight. She tried not to pace, or fidget, but the battle was a losing one. Hannah had never been one of those people who could remain still when she was facing emotional turmoil.

"And then, I started to see more. I saw the tension between you two, the lost looks and half meanings in what you said. I didn't understand what it all meant, until now. Looking back at it, it all makes such perfect sense."

"I'm sorry," He couldn't keep from saying, wanting to step forward and take her in his arms, "I do love you, Hannah."

"I know you do," She said certainly, smiling just a little, "And I know you love her."

He opened his mouth to protest, as he had grown so accustomed to doing, but shut his mouth quickly. He had promised the truth, no matter how it hurt her – or him – to hear.

"We can work through this, Hannah," He pleaded, and the words surprised him

"Maybe," She agreed, "I even think I could come to grips with only having half of your heart, because I love you. And we would be happy … at first, anyway."

"At first?" He repeated, feeling his stomach drop

"It would be a half life, Seeley, and you know it. You have such a big heart, and so much love to give, but it would tear you apart to live like that. As much as you love me, we both know that you will never be over Temperance Brennan. And I deserve better than that."

"You deserve everything," He said thickly, his heart aching

"And in the back of my mind, I've been wondering these things for awhile. But even then, I was willing to ignore it, because I know how great we are together. I might even have continued ignoring it … until tonight."

"Because of what was said?" He prompted

"No," She answered, surprising him, "Because of what wasn't said."

"I don't know what that means," He said without thinking, and it sounded so like Bones that his heart hurt anew

"Temperance is a great woman. I haven't known her long, but I do know that she loves you enough to bear a life of loneliness, if that life will make you happy."

"I think I'm losing you," He admitted, his brow furrowed

"Temperance Brennan will die of loneliness without you, Seeley. I saw it on her face today, I heard it in her voice. There is no 'Hannah' for her; it's you, or no one. And she's resigned herself to no one."

Her words floored him. The truth contained in them, the hope that he dared not acknowledge made his head spin. Surely she must be mistaken? Bones had turned him down all those months ago, she had denied his offer of a lifetime … _but she never said she didn't love you_, a secret voice whispered to him.

"What's happening here, Hannah?" He asked then

Hannah gave him the strongest smile she could manage. She approached him slowly, and reached up to kiss him when she was close enough. She closed her eyes, reveling in the way his lips felt against hers, and then she steeled herself. She pulled away, hating the sad look she saw in his eyes, and swore to herself that she would do this on her terms.

"I love you, Seeley," She whispered

"I love you too," He answered, his voice thick

"I have to leave," She told him, and cursed the tear that fell from his warm eyes, "I have to find my Bones. And you have to make sure that woman knows she doesn't have to be alone. You have to make this right, Seeley, because you owe it to me. And to her."

"So that's it? After everything I've put you through, you're just going to bow out gracefully? No throwing things, no calling me every bad name you can think of and cursing my existence?"

"What can I say?" She replied, and this time she smiled, "I'm an amazing woman. Probably the best one you'll ever meet."

"Amen to that."

"Don't get me wrong. I'll go get a hotel, and I'll cry for awhile, and bad mouth you to my mom. But then I'll get up, brush myself off, and keep chasing stories – just like I was always meant to."

Booth scanned her face, took note of every detail and nuance he saw there. This beautiful woman, this wonderful human being standing before him was giving him the greatest gift she ever could have, and he smiled at the knowledge. She was everything he'd ever thought she was, and more.

"Give me a few hours to get my stuff packed," She told him, drawing him out of his thoughts, "And then I'll bow out gracefully."

"I'll never forget you, Hannah."

She gave him her most dazzling smile, the one he had fell in love with instantly. Her golden hair cascading around her petite shoulders, brown eyes sad but sparkling, Hannah took a deep breath and rewarded herself with the knowledge that she had finally done exactly the right thing.

"I know," She agreed, and winked

* * *

**_P.S. I know some of you might be thinking "No way would Hannah bow out that gracefully". Logically, I agree with you. Life is rarely that clean cut and easy, but I said to hell with it. Hannah has made many mistakes (at least in my story), she's been made out to be a villain, but I like to believe in the redeeming qualities of everyone. So yes, in my story, Hannah finally did the right thing, and she did it on her own terms. She deserved a well written goodbye scene, and I enjoyed writing it. :)_**


	12. Starts With One

_**Author's Note: Guten Tag! (Hope I spelled that right). Or ... HI GUYS! Back with Chapter 12. So, this chapter is mostly filler, but important filler. It kinda sets the tone for the following chapters. Hannah's gone, but we still have quite a bit to deal with, so hang in there! There's some good Brennan/Angela friendship in this one, because I really love their friendship and wish we saw more of it on the show. Anyway, thank you guys for sticking around - 200 reviews? That's unbelievable. You all rock my frickin socks off! As always, I can't wait to hear what you guys have to say about this chappie. Happy reading!**_

* * *

_I cant believe I said I'd lay our love on the ground_

_But it doesn't matter cause I made it up,_

_ forgive me now_

_Everyday I spend away my soul's inside out_

_Gotta be someway that I can make it up to you now,_

_ somehow._

_ ~I'd Come for You, Nickelback_

_

* * *

_

In many ways, Angela Montenegro was a force to be reckoned with. Her father was a very headstrong man, independent and strong willed in the truest meaning of the word. He'd worked for everything he had in his life, right down to his fortune; everything he had in life was a direct result of his drive and ambition. He had passed all of those strong characteristics down to his beautifully flighty, artistic daughter, and she was immensely proud of those traits. She lived her life according to her own standards, everyone else be damned. When she had an opinion on something, she would not hesitate to make it known; she stood up for what she believed in, come hell or high water. Now, add to that strength of character and stubbornness all the rollercoaster hormones of pregnancy, and suddenly Angela was more tempest than artist.

So it was, two days after Booth had stormed into his partner's office and demanded she not move, Angela was also headed for her best friend's office on a mission. She had spent the prior forty eight hours trying to figure out what to do, and she was going to approach this situation. After all, although the fight between the partners had been loud, Angela had been unable to make heads or tails of the conversation. So she had taken her time to think everything through, and to decide on a course of action. Now that she had made up her mind, she wasted no time in putting it in motion.

Brennan glanced away from the digital images of the latest Limbo skeleton she was working on, her concentration disrupted as Angela heaved a thick manila folder onto the desk in front of her with a loud _thwack!_

"I'm not helping you," Angela stated firmly, crossing her arms over her chest

"What?" Brennan asked, lost, "What aren't you helping me with, Angela?"

"Moving. House hunting. All of it."

"Why?" Brennan asked warily, seeing the tense expression on her friend's face

"You promised me you'd tell him, Bren. You lied."

Brennan surveyed the pensive way her friend was standing, and the dark look on her flawless features, and she sighed in something akin to defeat. She took a moment to stall, opening the manila folder that Angela had thrown down. The entire thing was full of print outs and fliers of houses currently on the market, and Brennan was touched by how much effort and thought her friend had put into her request for help. She wondered how much Angela knew of her fight with Booth; based on her lack of information, and the apparently correct assumption that she had not actually heard what the fight with Booth had been over, Brennan guessed that her friend knew very little. All of these factors left her with limited options: if she explained it to Angela (which it looked like she would have to do), then she would need to explain more than just their fight the other day. She would have to explain everything, because their argument would not make sense out of context. Yet again, Brennan was faced with the revelation of a very private part of her life, one that she had worked very hard to keep under wraps.

Then again, this was Angela. Her best friend; the woman who, against all odds, understood her in a way that Brennan could never have anticipated. They were two completely different women, and yet they had a great relationship. Besides, now that she had laid so much of her personal life bare in front of Hannah, Angela deserved at least the same courtesy.

"Sit down, Ange," Brennan instructed the other woman tiredly

Angela looked taken aback by Brennan's response, but after a few minutes she uncrossed her petite arms and took a seat in the chair across from her. Brennan set the manila folder on the corner of her desk, then gathered up the digital images and set them off to the side. She was only going to explain this once, so the less there was to distract her the better.

"I didn't lie, Ange," Brennan began, ignoring the eyebrow Angela raised in response, "I was going to tell him the other day, when we went to breakfast. I didn't know how to bring it up, so I stalled. I was about to tell him when we got back, but then Hannah showed up with Booth's father and … well, I didn't give it much thought after that."

Angela scrutinized her for several long moments, trying to discern whether or not her friend was telling the truth. Brennan looked tired in a way that had always worried Angela, and she seemed to have lost weight to the artist's trained eye. There were many things that Angela could see in her face, but dishonesty was not one of them.

Brennan saw the moment Angela accepted her explanation; the tension left the other woman's body, and her observant coffee eyes took on a softer look.

"Well, I owe you an apology, at any rate," Angela started then, "It's my fault he found out the way he did. I ran into him as he was coming to your office, and I had that folder in my hand. He asked if it was a reconstruction, and I let it slip that it was fliers. I thought you'd already told him, but … well, obviously that wasn't the case. Do you forgive me?"

"Of course I do, Ange," Brennan said quickly, "You were under the assumption that he already knew. It was a mistake, a lapse in communication: that happens to everyone."

"I guess," Angela agreed, but she still felt bad, "So he was pretty mad, huh?"

"Yes. That was the most upset I've ever seen him," Brennan admitted

This was the pivotal moment in their conversation. Brennan could simply ignore what had happened, brush off their argument as being a superficial one that had come about because of the several strains in her partner's personal life, or she could be honest and confide in her friend.

Normally, she would not think twice about this dilemma.

Then again, Brennan didn't normally feel like her whole world had been turned so completely and irrevocably upside down.

"He told me I couldn't move," Brennan admitted then, choosing to trust her friend

"What?" Angela asked incredulously

"He stormed into my office and tried to tell me that he forbid me to move," Brennan repeated, her voice tightening as she remembered it

"That's crazy," Angela said, shaking her head, "He just swept in here and said that you couldn't buy a house?"

"Yes. He was very adamant about it; he repeated several times that I was not allowed to."

"And why the hell not?" Her friend demanded, frustration pointed at Booth now

"According to him, I'm not allowed to move because it will change everything. He had a whole list of reasons, actually, up to and including the fact that it was not fair to him."

Angela's eyes grew wider at the confession. What the hell had gotten into that man?

"What did you say?"

"I said that he got to move on, and now it was my turn. And I … accused him of giving up on us. Me. Us."

Brennan corrected herself several times, unsure what exactly she meant to say. Surprise was written all over her friend's ivory features, but Brennan had expected no less. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the explanation she was about to give, and the barrage of questions that would ensue.

"I'm sure that you are confused, Ange; it doesn't make much sense out of context."

"What are you talking about, Sweetie?"

"Several months ago … just before I went to Maluku, and Booth to Afghanistan, actually, something … happened between us."

"Between you and Booth?" Angela clarified

"Yes. While there is much to the story, I am comfortable with giving you the abridged version: I do not feel the how or why is of as much importance as the what."

"Okay, Sweetie, it's okay if you're nervous. But it's just you and I here, friend to friend, woman to woman."

"I'm not nervous," Brennan protested, but she knew it was a lie

"You're rambling, Sweetie. You always ramble when you're nervous. Just take a deep breath, and tell me whatever it is you want to tell me."

Brennan was thankful for the reassuring smile the other woman gave her. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, took a deep breath, and then launched into her story.

Fifteen minutes passed, in which Brennan admitted everything that had happened that night outside the Hoover. She was certain that the actually relaying of the events would have taken less time, if it weren't for Angela's almost constant interjecting with questions and exclamations of surprise. As it was, when Brennan had finally stopped talking, she was happy to feel a certain sense of relief. Finally, she had confided in someone; she had acknowledged the reality of the situation, something she had initially promised herself never to do.

"So, let me get this straight: Booth asked you for a chance to be a real couple, and you said no?"

"That is correct," Brennan said simply, too tired to defend her decision

"He told you that he was your guy?"

"Well, he said he was _that guy_, and that he apparently _"knew"_. Although I'm not sure what he meant."

"And you told him no?"

"Yes."

Angela was silent for what felt like a long time. She absorbed everything Brennan had just told her, ran through her explanation of events and pictured it all in her imaginative brain. Not surprisingly, Brennan had given very detailed descriptions that Angela had no doubt were as accurate as any description could be. She watched the flurry of emotions play across her best friend's face; she added all of this new knowledge to the knowledge of what had happened during that fight, and for the several months that they had been home.

"Ange?" Brennan prodded gingerly, waiting for the reprimand

The artist took note of how tired her friend was; she cataloged the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her face seemed just that much thinner that it had been. She took in the slight slump of Brennan's proud shoulders, and the latent confusion that seemed to shine from her pale blue eyes. She took account of it all, shelved it in her mind for later use, and then sat up straight in her chair.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie," She said gently, "Truly. I'm sorry about everything that's happened; I'm sorry for the way Booth found out you were moving and started a fight with you; I'm sorry that I pretty much just did the same thing."

Brennan could only stare at Angela as she sat across from her, a gentle smile gracing her features and a softness in her eyes. Of all the responses she could have gotten, Brennan had not been prepared for that one.

"You're not going to tell me I made a mistake?" She asked dubiously

Angela chuckled and reached her arm across the desk, taking Brennan's hand in her own and giving it a squeeze.

"I understand where you were coming from, Bren," She assured her, "I don't agree that you don't have an open heart: you are so much more warm and loving than you give yourself credit for, Sweetie. I expected resistance from you – you're a genius, but you rarely make things easy. I did expect more from Booth, though."

"You … did?" Brennan asked, bewildered

"Absolutely. I've never known Booth to be one to give up easily, but that's exactly what he did. You put up a fight, like you always do when it comes to the important things, and he gave up."

"I only fight when it's necessary, Ange," Brennan retorted

"Too literal, Sweetie," Angela corrected, smiling, "I mean you metaphorically fight."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"When it comes to the things and people that are important to you, you fight for them. Like your father – he is important to you, and so is having him in your life. You're the only reason he's not in prison right now. You fight everyday for the victims that the FBI brings in: you fight to give them identities, and to send them home to their families. Everything that's important to you in some way or another, you fight for. And sometimes, when you think it's needed, you fight against it too."

"That sounds counterproductive, Ange. Why would someone fight against something that was important to them?"

"Because it's scary, Sweetie. Because it's so important that you think it needs to be protected from everything and everyone – including you."

"I'm not sure I follow your logic," Brennan denied

"You may not think it's logical, Bren, but you believe me," Angela replied, grinning slyly

"How do you know that?"

"I can see it in your expression. I've had quite a few years to become fluent in "Brennan"," Angela answered

Brennan thought about pointing out that there was no such thing as "Brennan", but somehow she knew that Angela was only being facetious.

"So you think I was right to push him away?" She queried

"I don't know about "right", but I understand why you did. And in light of his actions since that moment, well … I'm not sure that you could have done anything else."

For some inconceivable reason, Angela's answers made her eyes sting with the sudden onslaught of tears. Brennan had spent so much time and energy hiding the events of that night, and their after effects, that she had never really noticed just how taxing it was to hold up the illusion that nothing had happened. Even as she had decided to confide in Angela, she had been certain that the other woman's reaction would be one of surprise and disappointment. To hear her passionately artistic best friend supporting her decision, the only other "heart person" Brennan trusted aside from Booth, when she had been certain of the opposite outcome … well, her relief was surprising in its scale.

"Don't cry, Sweetie," Angela said immediately

Her pregnancy hormones in full swing, Angela felt answering tears prick the back of her eyes. She stood swiftly and went around the desk to wrap her friend in a hug, her heart aching for the obvious pain that Brennan was experiencing. She had kept everything to herself the entire time she'd been gone, and all throughout the four months that they'd been home. Angela felt torn between her sympathy and love for her best friend, and a growing irritation for Booth. He had known how … guarded Brennan was, and he'd still breached those defenses, only to change his mind the very next minute. He'd told her he was going to move on, done exactly that by bringing his war correspondent girlfriend home with him, and then he'd attacked his partner when she'd tried to do the same.

Brennan managed to get herself under control after only a few tears escaped, and she took several deep breaths to calm herself. She hugged Angela in return, thankful for her support and willingness to listen.

"Ange, are you crying?" Brennan asked when the two had separated

"Yes," Angela whined, but she laughed as she wiped her eyes, "This baby is making a mess of my hormones!"

Brennan laughed at that, which drew a laugh from Angela in turn. When they'd recovered from their tears into laughter moment, Angela gave her friend a dazzling smile and reached for the thick manila folder again.

"So these are all possible houses that I found listed on realtor's websites in the last few days. I took the liberty of factoring out the ones that were in bad neighborhoods or were too far of a commute. I thought we could go look at a few of them this weekend."

"I thought you weren't helping me?" Brennan queried

"Well, that was before I had all the facts, wasn't it?" Her friend replied with a smirk

"Thanks, Ange," Brennan said softly, touched

"That's what friends are for, Sweetie. So what do you say? House shopping this weekend?"

"Sure," Brennan said, smiling

"Great!"

In a corner of her unconventionally bright mind, Angela had already decided on the perfect house warming gift. Well, _early_ house warming gift, anyway.

* * *

In the two days since his fight with Bones, and Hannah's resulting departure, Booth had done a lot of driving.

He'd gone to work as usual, thanking God and every saint he could name that they didn't have an ongoing case. More than anything he wanted to talk to Bones, to apologize for basically attacking her (again), among other things. He wanted to confront her about their relationship, and her mistaken belief that he had never been in love with her – that he was not in love with her still. He wanted to tell her about Hannah, and talk to her about his dad; he wanted to just be close to her, to feel her presence in the same room and know that she was there with him. But before he could do any of that, he had some soul searching to do.

So after he'd gotten done with work both nights, Booth had merely gotten into his SUV and driven aimlessly around the city. He needed to think, and for whatever reason the very act of driving relaxed him. He'd simply turn up the radio and drive wherever he got the whim to go, taking in each thought as it came to him. Already he'd worked his way to the acceptance of how he had let down not only Bones, but himself in regards to their relationship. He'd recognized that, in his raw hurt and feelings of denial, he'd allowed himself to hide in his relationship with Hannah. What he'd originally only meant to be a distraction had turned into more, and he ended up actually caring for her more than he'd anticipated. As a result, he'd allowed himself to ignore Bones, to not only neglect their partnership, but their friendship as well. He'd hurt not only Bones, but Hannah as well by pretending that Temperance Brennan meant less to him than she really did.

That was only one mistake in a list of many.

As he'd worked his way through the events of the last several months, acknowledging fault where fault was found, one thing still baffled him. One thing still nagged at the corners of his mind, and no matter how he looked at it, the answer remained elusive. He had never denied that he cared for Hannah, but it had quickly become apparent that she could not hold a candle to the way he felt about Bones. He'd begun to struggle to make their relationship work a little while ago, and had been partly relieved when everything had come out in his fight with Bones the other day. The feeling of being torn it two was fading, had started to fade the moment she'd told him she was leaving.

So why on earth had he offered to work on it with her?

This was the only truth he could not account for, the only thing that he could not find his reasons behind, or even what had driven him to say it. They had both known, in some part of their hearts, that it would happen eventually. Although he'd done a damn good job of denying it to himself. Still, he had offered to try and work through it, even when he knew that she was right and he would be living a half life. The fact that he had no idea why bothered him, and he truly felt that he needed the answer before he could move on.

Out of ideas, and frustrated that aimless driving did not seem to be helping with this particular dilemma, Thursday morning found Booth striding purposefully into Sweets' office – unannounced.

"Do you have some sort of physical aversion to making an appointment, Agent Booth?" Sweets asked in annoyance

"You should be flattered, Sweets," Booth shot back, collapsing into the couch he usually shared with Bones

Sweets, who was reclined in the chair across from him, fought the urge to roll his eyes and set down the pad of paper that he'd been making notes on. Booth had not been to see him since the last time he'd barged into his office, raving about how it was his fault that things were strained between him and Bones.

"What can I do for you, Agent Booth?"

"Here's your free shot, kid. I need you to shrink me."

"Shrink you?" Sweets repeated

"Yeah, you know, do your head shrink thing. Put all that psychology stuff that Bones hates to good use."

"It's not 'stuff', Agent Booth."

"Yeah yeah, you know what I mean. Look, I'm here because I need your opinion, believe it or not."

Against his efforts not to be, Sweets found himself interested. Booth was never really open with his thoughts, despite the many attempts the younger man had made to open him up. Now, to have Booth just plop himself down on the couch and ask for Sweets to 'shrink him', well … it had to be something pretty good, and big. With a quick glance down, Sweets put his notes down and pinned his most serious gaze on the Agent.

"Talk to me, Goose."

"Top Gun? Really, Sweets?"

"What can I say, I watched it the other night," Sweets replied, shrugging unaffectedly

"You never outgrew the nerd phase, did ya, Sweets?"

"Quit stalling," Sweets scolded in reply

"Fine. Well, the other day …"

Booth proceeded to regale Sweets with the story of what happened Monday night, although he tried to go into as little detail as possible. He wanted Sweets to help him figure this out, true, but that didn't mean that he wanted to air his dirty laundry for the boy to gawk at. Although Sweets was doing a pretty impressive job of not gawking openly about his recent break up.

"So you want to know why you offered to work things out with Hannah, even though you were relieved she was leaving?" Sweets surmised

"You make it sound so harsh, Sweets," Booth muttered

"But I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yeah yeah, just get on with it," The Agent replied with a wave of his hand

"I believe, Agent Booth, that this whole thing with Hannah was just a ruse."

"You think I was pretending?" Booth questioned, trying not to get angry

"Not exactly. I think you really cared about her, and she you. What I mean by ruse is that you were trying to fool yourself into believing that she was what you needed."

"Why doesn't anyone believe that I wanted to be with Hannah?" Booth asked in exasperation

"You misheard me, Booth. I said you were trying to make yourself that she was what you _needed._ I have no doubt that you wanted to be with her; I think you even believed you needed her, at first, an illusion that you slowly started to wake up from a little while ago. There's a big difference between what you want, and what you need."

"So I didn't need Hannah," He repeated, "But I need Bones?"

"Do you remember one of our sessions awhile ago, when I said that you and Dr. Brennan had formed a surrogate relationship?"

"Yeah, I remember that," Booth agreed with a slight nod

"Well, over time, and because of all the energy that you both invested in it, I believe your relationship changed. It started out as a surrogate relationship, but as the years progressed, it became an actual relationship. The only thing lacking was the physical aspect."

"Bones and I were never in a relationship," Booth said quickly

"We're way past the point of denial here, Agent Booth," Sweets chided, fixing him with a pointed look, "Before you ran off to your separate ends of the world, you and Dr. Brennan were in a relationship."

"Bones would never believe you," Booth said, half to himself

"I think you'd be surprised," Sweets retorted enigmatically

"What?" Booth remarked in surprise

"Dr. Brennan may not have recognized what it was, or she may have even persuaded herself into believing that it was nothing, but even she treated it as a relationship."

"And Hannah?"

"When she came to D.C., Hannah became the surrogate. You tried to have the relationship you wanted with Dr. Brennan, with Hannah. As you subconsciously became aware of what was happening, your relationship started to struggle; both of them."

"So if Hannah was just a surrogate, and I apparently knew it in some far removed level of my brain like you say, then why did I say I wanted to work it out? That doesn't make sense, Sweets."

"Yes it does. Honor is a very important value to you, Agent Booth. You try to do the right thing, the honorable thing, by everyone. I think you've come to realize that you gave up on Dr. Brennan, perhaps even at the exact moment that you should have done the exact opposite. Asking Hannah to work on your relationship was your unconscious way of trying to fix that; wrong relationship, wrong woman, right move."

"So what do I do now?"

"My advice? Take it slow. You changed your relationship with Dr. Brennan drastically, in a short amount of time. The change no doubt confuses her, and another change is only going to add to that confusion. You've basically split your relationship – she's not just going to jump back in feet first. She's going to need time, and proof that you're dedicated to fixing things. Even then, it's going to be an uphill battle."

"So that's it? I'm back at square one?" Booth questioned, and he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice

"No, not exactly square one. You've definitely taken some steps back, but the foundation is still there. Now you just need to add some … reinforcements."

In a rare moment of obvious self doubt, Booth looked away from the other man and down at his clasped hands. He had known that there was some … damage to his relationship with Bones, but hearing it confirmed by a third party somehow made it worse. After all the pains he had taken with her, after all the effort they had both put in to their partnership, only to have it unravel in the span of a few months. Well, not unravel exactly, but … fray at the edges. He knew what he was facing: he was very familiar with the fortress that surrounded Temperance Brennan's heart. For one indeterminable moment, Booth felt as if he were facing an utterly unattainable task.

"What if I can't?" He asked softly, unsure of why he'd voiced his fear, "What if there's no way to fix it?"

"Where there's a will, there's a way, Booth. You just have to want it bad enough."

The psychologist's words rang in his head as clearly as a church bell at Sunday mass. He wanted nothing more than a second chance with his partner; a chance to prove that he truly loved her, and that he had meant it when he promised fifty years. He had stumbled, shot himself in the proverbial foot, but he would fix this. He would make good on his promise, no matter how she fought or resisted him; he would do all the things he had failed to do that night on the steps of the Hoover.

He would have Temperance Brennan, or no one.


	13. A Deep Blue

**_Author's Note: UGH! I'm sorry that this chapter took so horribly long to post! There were many reasons for the delay, not the least of which that the last episode completely killed my muse. Booth was a complete ass, and I was so disgusted that for awhile I just didn't want to write. Then, when I'd finally settled down and got my thoughts together, I found out that I only had a trial version of Microsoft Word and it had expired, so I literally couldn't write anything. But all of those things have been remedied, thankfully. Again, I'm sorry for the long delay, and I hope you're all still with me. _**

**_Also, I'd just like to say that I know that this chapter is shorter than the others, and also a little more ... melancholy. All I can is that I was feeling a little melancholy myself when I was writing it, and I kind of enjoyed exploring a more somber side of my favorite anthropologist. So yeah. Thank you for all the reviews/alerts/favorites. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!_**

* * *

_Please don't let this turn into something it's not_

_I can only give you everything I've got_

_I can't be as sorry as you think I should_

_But I still love you more than anyone else could_

_All that I keep thinking throughout this whole flight_

_Is it could take my whole damn life to make this right_

_This splintered mast I'm holding on won't save me long_

_Because I know fine well that what I did was wrong._

_ ~Make This Go On Forever, Snow Patrol_

_

* * *

_

The thing that bothered her most, she supposed, was that she knew better.

She could not begin to name the driving force behind her tumultuous emotions; she knew only that they were in a state of unbearable chaos, goaded and herded as if they were sheep to be shepherded. She had been fine an hour or two ago, she knew for a fact that she had. She had felt fine, good even, when she'd left the lab just a short while ago. The day had been a productive one, perhaps even an easy one. She would not go so far as to say that she felt … lighter, because that was not true. Nowadays, even her good moods were tinged with something a little darker. She felt as though she lived with a weight now, a heavy weight that burdened her heart and her mind with the sheer mass of it. She was always aware of that weight, the ever present oppression she felt blanketing her heart; on the good days, it only ever felt as though the weight had shifted, as if to allow her just that much more room to breathe.

Today had been one of those days, where the weight had seemed to readjust itself ever so slightly, and she breathed just that much more deeply. Without being aware that it had happened, a dark, traitorous corner of her foolish heart had allowed the smallest sliver of hope to intrude upon its exile. Hope, that perhaps today would be the day the weight began not just to shift, but to disintegrate entirely. Hope that she might finally start to relearn what her life was like without him, and the constant reassuring presence that he had become.

Brennan had not realized that the little glimmer of hope had manifested itself until she'd arrived home; the catalyst was an unexpected one, and something she had not thought of for a while. Upon her arrival home, she'd changed into pajamas and begun to relax and let the work and the stress fade away. She'd gone to the fridge for a bottle of water, and that was when it hit her: she'd stared at the shiny metal door, the stainless steel expanse of it blank and unmarred. She'd faltered in her steps, and then stopped walking completely as a grim recollection wound its way into her thoughts. A feeling of sadness, of deep and abiding loss had stolen over her like a wraith on the wings of thinnest gossamer, wrapped in slivers of shadow. She stood looking at that pristine metal expanse, and her mind called forth pictures of smiling people and a happy family; just as she had that day at Russ', she suddenly saw barrenness and solitude where once she had seen order and discipline. Without meaning to, she thought of her resolution to ask Booth about the pictures, and the subsequent realization that she had never had the chance, and now probably never would.

The return of that ever present, ever familiar weight in her chest was swift and complete. She did not mourn its reappearance, or curse its persistence; in fact, she was surprised that it had stayed away so long.

The thing that bothered her the most, she supposed, was that she knew better.

She knew that the hope would not stay, and had known better than to even allow herself to entertain it on any conscious level. Despite that, that flickering, feeble flame of hope lit itself in her heart and only made itself known to her as it was blown out; and it bothered her, because she had known better than to hope.

She had walked away from the offensively blank façade of her fridge without opening it, and retreated to the couch with her weight laden heart. She sat there now, curled into the corner of her couch in a way that would have suggested to anyone watching that she would like to curl in on herself until she was only half her intended size. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata wafted liltingly into the air around her, reaching out from her iPod and soothing suddenly raw nerve endings.

The part of Temperance Brennan's brain that was hyper rational, and logical to a fault, told her that this was useless as well as pathetic. The scientist within urged her to focus on something else, something that was more worth her time and effort. Wallowing was not something a wildly accomplished and venerated author and anthropologist spent their time doing. The woman within her, however, shouted and railed against the scientist with rabid fervor. Wallowing was something a woman with a bruised – perhaps even crushed – heart was allowed to do, especially in the privacy of her own company. The battle was short, but fierce, and her inner woman won out. Tonight, at least, she gave herself leave to feel the immeasurable tangle of dark emotions that now beat within her breast. Tomorrow she would be strong, and focused, and fierce; tonight she was withdrawn and hurt and even a little lost.

Brennan would have spent the majority of her night in such a way, and perhaps even part of her morning, if it weren't for the wholly unwelcome and unwarranted interruption of knocking that came from the vicinity of her front door.

She stared at the broad expanse of wood that was her door from her spot across the room. Surely she was hearing things? A glance at the clock told her it was well after nine in the evening on a Friday night; even Angela had more of a life than to be knocking on her door now. In fact, she thought she could remember her friend inviting her out to a play, or maybe it had been a movie …

A very real knock resounded against her door, drawing her from her thoughts before she could get lost in them again. She hesitated for a long moment, a very large part of her tempted to just ignore the intrusion. She would not put it past Angela to show up unannounced, determined to drag her out for a night that she considered a much needed diversion. Frankly, Brennan was not only not in the mood to go anywhere, she was also not in the mood to be in the company of another person. Somewhere within her, however, some part of her brain (or perhaps her heart) whispered that she should answer the door.

Brennan uncurled herself from her spot on the couch reluctantly, her movements sluggish in a way that was almost alien to her. She didn't bother to look out the peephole before grabbing the door knob, because she really didn't care who was on the other side.

Despite the apathetic hands that currently cradled her heart, the sight of Seeley Booth standing in the hallway outside her door surprised her. They stared at each other across the gap for the span of several breaths, and she couldn't help feeling like they were back in her office, catching their breath in the lull between accusations.

"Did I wake you?" Booth finally asked softly

"No," She said simply, and could think of nothing more to say

"May I … come in?" He asked hesitantly

_No. _"Yes," She found herself saying instead

She stepped to the side to let him in, closing the door as he shuffled past her and into the living room. Normally, she would be curious as to why her partner was here on a Friday night, instead of out (or maybe in) with his girlfriend, but tonight she felt only apathetic. She did not bother to question him, only moved past him to once again curl herself into a somewhat looser version of the ball she had been in earlier. She pulled one knee up against her chest, tucked the other one in front of it, and draped an arm across the raised knee to set her chin upon.

Whatever he was here for, Brennan felt certain that she was not up to it.

* * *

Booth could not recall a time when his partner had so looked so utterly and positively … forlorn. He had thought at first, when she hadn't answered his first knock, that perhaps she had already gone to bed. Looking at her now, however, she looked wide awake. Thoughtful, melancholy even, but not the least bit tired. Now, faced with her bleak mood, Booth found himself struggling to speak.

"You alright, Bones?" He finally managed

"Fine," She answered simply. No elaboration or explanation, merely a one word answer that lacked in anything resembling emotion. She was not going to make this easy.

"Look, Bones," He jumped right in, "I wanted to apologize, for the way I behaved the other day. I was just … surprised, and I handled it badly. You're a grown woman, free to do whatever you like."

"I know."

Two words this time; that was a start at least.

"Well, the point is that I do too. And I know that the way I yelled at you … tried to tell you that you couldn't do something … that was unacceptable."

She made no response, merely sat motionless on her couch and stared at him with doleful azure eyes. Something about that look she was giving him agitated him; her expression was almost one of … what? Certainly not anger, or even reproach, either of which he could have understood. The expression was so alien to her features, so uncommon in his strong willed and defiant partner that he almost didn't recognize it. The longer he studied her face, however, the more certain he became that her expression was one of defeat. That did not sit well with him; Temperance Brennan, defeated?

More importantly, defeated by what?

"I'm sorry," He started again, beginning to pace, "And I'm tired of apologizing."

As soon as he said it, he realized how wrong the words sounded, and how unlike the way he meant them. The slight narrowing of her eyes told him just how harsh the words had sounded.

"I didn't mean it like that," He said quickly, "Well, I did, but not the way it sounded. What I meant was, I'm sick of the way I've been acting , and how I always need to apologize for it. And I hate that I always seem to be acting the worse around you."

He paused, but she still made no effort to reply. Her silence was unnerving, even more so in the light that Bones was rarely ever completely silent. Well, at least not silent in this way, anyway.

"Anyway," He rushed ahead, halting his pacing and making himself stand still in front of her, "The point is, I know you can do whatever you want, and if you want to move, then I can respect that. But … here's the thing, Bones … I really wish you wouldn't."

"Why?"

He wanted to breathe a sigh in relief at even the single word question, but he refrained.

"Why? For all the reasons I said … yelled the other day. And before you say anything, I know: I know that it's unfair to say those things, especially in light of …. Well, everything. It's unfair for me to ask you not to move, not to put literal miles between us, but I can't help it. You can move, and the decision is yours and yours alone … but I wish that you wouldn't. At least, not yet."

"It is unfair," She said after a long, quiet moment, "But life is rarely fair. And I can … understand where you are coming from."

On one hand, he was grateful for her understanding; on the other, he felt wretched for being the receiver of such understanding. He felt suddenly torn; a part of him wanted to blurt out everything then and there. He wanted to tell her that Hannah was gone, that he had been wrong and he knew it. He wanted to tell her that he knew he'd made a grievous error, and that he was ready to own up to that error and correct it. The other part of him knew that, despite his desire to do exactly that, blurting out the truth he know knew would be a grievous error in itself. She would take Hannah's departure and his being here now as a unified incident; she would think that she was second best, and that he was only with her because he did not want to be alone. She would come to all the wrong conclusions, and he could not afford to set himself back any farther. No, the revelation of Hannah's departure – and the reasons for it – would be better left unspoken for now.

"Would you like to watch a movie?"

Her question caught him entirely off guard, so much so that his thoughts of only a few seconds ago were utterly derailed. She must have mistaken his surprise as a refusal, however, because she was excusing him even as he was gathering himself.

"I'm sure you have to get home." _To Hannah._ She did not say the words, but the hung in the air between them almost as if they had weight.

"A movie sounds great," He said instead, and the small flicker of surprise in her eyes was not lost on him

Without another word she unfurled her long legs and rose gracefully from the couch, even as she was motioning for him to take a seat. He settled into a cushion in the middle, allowing for some distance between them. She turned off the living room lights, put her iPod to sleep, and then grabbed a DVD from a small stack on one of the bookshelves.

When she had made sure the disc was seated properly in the player and watched the small door slide closed, she trekked back over to the couch and resituated herself in her spot in the corner. She did not fold in upon herself this time, and Booth took that to be a good sign.

As the screen flickered into use and the music filtered through the speakers toward him, Booth felt himself surprised once more at her choice in entertainment. He glanced sidelong at her, and although she was not smiling, there seemed to be an easy peace settling around her.

"Beauty and the Beast?" He queried

Brennan was not good with pop culture references, and was in many ways out of her touch with her generation. In the wide slew of movies that she had never seen, and the tiny handful that she had, Booth had never considered the fact that she had probably not only seen Disney movies as a child, but was perhaps even fond of them.

As the hauntingly beautiful music of the prologue tinkled into his ears, he knew without knowing how he knew that she had chosen to share something very private with him. He was honored – touched was a better word, maybe – that she had not only chosen to share it with him, but that she had chosen to in the midst of the chaos that was their current life.

"My mother and I used to watch this," She said quietly, so quietly he almost missed it

On impulse, Booth reached across and gave her hand nearest him a gentle squeeze. She did not squeeze his hand in return, or even look away from the screen, but neither did she shove his hand away.

"It's great," He answered just as quietly


	14. Through the Eyes of a Nine Year Old

**_Author's Note: So, you guys still there? Still sticking with me? I hope so, cause now we start getting into the really good, hopeful, rebuilding parts. Yay! :) We get the reappearance of Parker in this chapter, and I have to say that I love him in this one! Also, I'd like to invite you guys to check out some of my Bones videos on Youtube. I just started making them, and I'm gonna be making one for this story soon. Anyway, if you'd like to stop by and check them out my Youtube account is Lilbit846. Anyway, I'll leave you to the reading - and don't forget to leave me a little review love!_**

* * *

_Put your brave face on_

_The one you wore when you stole my heart_

_Won't you hold my hand_

_We'll jump together into anything that could_

_Possibly happen._

_ ~Brave Face, Delta Goodrem_

* * *

That intangible weight was still pressing on Brennan's chest Tuesday afternoon, trying her patience and interfering with her concentration. She felt better than she had the night that Booth had stopped by, and then surprised her by staying to watch a movie with her. Despite that, and despite the fact that she did feel better, the weight still refused to go away. She was frustrated; it was as if something were amiss, and she simply couldn't figure out what.

Now, as the work day began to wind down and people were getting ready to close up shop, Brennan found herself doing something she hadn't done in quite some time. She'd taken off her lab coat, perhaps because she thought it might help her to blend in, and she began to wander the vast array of exhibits in the museum. She had almost forgotten that she enjoyed this; on more than one occasion, she'd spent several hours wandering aimlessly from one room to the next, lost in her thoughts. Sometimes she would look at the displays and imagine what it must have been like for the scientist who unearthed the artifacts; other times, she wondered what life had been like during the time frame the artifact originated from. An idle occupation for her mind, she knew, but it relaxed her for some reason. Relaxation was something she figured she could really use at the moment, considering the plethora of emotions that had been taunting her as of late.

She hadn't bothered to ask Booth what Hannah thought of his spending a Friday night watching movies with her, instead of with his girlfriend. She had thought about it, but in the end decided that it wasn't really any of her business. Well, that was part of it; the other part was that she simply didn't care. She had not expected Booth to agree to stay with her, but once he had she figured that was the end of it. Far be it from her to worry if he seemed unconcerned. Besides, Hannah monopolized the bulk of his time now anyway; she could withstand a few hours without him.

Brennan shook her head at her own thoughts, mystified. Since when had she become so … Angela would probably call it bitchy. She wasn't sure that was the right adjective, but figured it probably had a little bit of truth in this case. She truly didn't have anything against Hannah; sometimes, it just got a little hard to handle, that's all. After all, she had gone from spending the majority of her free time with him to barely seeing him once every week (outside of work). Even she could not deny that was a big change, for both of them.

The scientist was lost in her thoughts as she made her way out of the Egyptian room and toward the Ancient Rome exhibit when a strange sound fell on her ears. At first, her brain didn't even register what it was because she was so unaccustomed to hearing it. When it finally dawned on her that she was hearing children's voices – yelling – her steps faltered before she automatically changed direction. She went past the Ancient Rome exhibit, took a left in the direction of the prehistoric man display and found she was getting closer. Brennan couldn't immediately say why, but something about the cacophony of prepubescent voices sounded familiar.

The hallway curved gracefully to the right, and as she turned the corner her eyes fell on a group of younger kids, the oldest of whom appeared to be no older than twelve or thirteen. A group of them stood knotted together no more than ten feet in front of her, their small ranks forming a circle. As her genius brain made sense of what her eyes were seeing, a single young voice stuck out of the crowd.

"Stop it, Levi!"

"Parker?" She blurted in consternation

Her clear voice rung out above the higher pitched children's voices, and all at once the chorus of yelling and taunting fell silent. A few of the younger kids on the outer perimeter turned automatically to face her, and as they did so a gap opened that ran all the way to the center. Parker stood facing another boy, his senior by at least a few years and taller by almost a foot. The other boy, whom Brennan assumed was Levi, slid his eyes away from Parker to stare at her. When Parker, who had been a little slower to realize that something had changed, glanced toward her she felt an unexpected hitch in her chest; the young boy had a bloody nose.

"Bones?" He asked as it dawned on him who she was

"What is going on?" She demanded, striding purposefully toward them

"Nothing!" The boy – Levi – said quickly

Brennan fixed him with her most stern gaze as the other children stood aside to let her closer to the two boys in question.

"Do not lie to me," She said firmly

"Levi pushed Aaron," Parker said quietly

"Who is Aaron?" Brennan asked the crowd of children

"I am," A small voice answered

A little ways behind Parker, a small boy with nearly black hair and glasses was looking at her mournfully. Both of his legs were in metal braces, and two crutches were stuffed up under his arms. He was younger (and smaller) than both Parker and Levi, and obviously disabled. Dubious, she glanced away from the smaller boy back to Parker.

"And then what?" She prodded, folding her arms

"Parker told him to stop," Aaron answered, "And pushed him."

"And then he punched me," Parker said quietly

Brennan glanced from Levi to Parker; the bloody state of his nose made sense to her now. She glanced around at the assembled children in consternation; was it just that she was getting older, or were children becoming meaner these days?

"Where is your teacher?" She asked then, glancing around

"I'm here," A clearly breathless woman said as she bustled toward them with a small girl in tow, "I'm Ms. Perri. What happened here?"

Brennan repeated the story quickly, glancing sidelong at the two offending children. Parker looked abashed, but Levi seemed wholly unconcerned with the proceedings. The young boy's indifference made her secretly irritated, and for just a moment she thought of telling Parker right then and there that she thought he had done a very brave, good thing. She refrained from doing so however, and made herself ignore both boys for a little longer.

She garnered the information that Ms. Perri was a substitute for her father today in the after school program, and that she'd only been away from the children for a few minutes. One of the younger girls in the program had lost a tooth, and begun crying when she'd seen that the empty space had begun to bleed. Ms. Perri had taken her to the bathroom to clean her up, being the only adult within sight. Although Brennan could not rationally fault the obviously harried young woman for her choice, she still felt … disapproving that her absence had resulted in the current situation.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Ms. Perri, I will take Parker back to my office and get him cleaned up while we wait for his father," Brennan stated

"I can't release him to anyone other than his legal guardian," The younger woman replied immediately

"It's okay, Ms. Perri, my dad knows I wait with Bones after the program," Parker answered quickly

"I don't know, it's still against the rules …"

Without hesitating, Brennan pulled her cell phone from her pocket and hit speed dial, then held it to her ear and waited.

"Hey, Bones," Booth answered on the third ring

"Booth, could you please let Ms. Perri know that Parker is allowed to wait with me?" She said quickly, glancing at the teacher

"Who is Ms. Perri?" He asked

"She's a substitute for my father on the after school program," Brennan explained

"Did something happen? Is Parker alright?" He asked, sounding worried

"He's fine. I'll let him explain when you get here. Now will you please speak with the teacher?"

"Sure, Bones, put her on," He agreed

Brennan handed the teacher her cell phone, then glanced at Parker. He still looked abashed, but also hopeful that his teacher was going to release him to go with Bones. His nose was no longer bleeding, and the only evidence that it had ever been was the dried blood above his lip. She would need to clean him up before Booth got to the lab – she did not want to think about what his reaction would be if he saw even the smallest amount of blood on his son.

Ms. Perri handed Brennan's cell phone back to her, looking somewhat worried but resigned now that she had received parental permission to release Parker to her.

"Very well, Dr. Brennan, Parker can wait with you."

"Thank you. C'mon, Parks."

She had no idea what had possessed her to use the young boy's nickname, especially when she had never really been one to use nicknames in the first place. She played it off however, and glanced down at Parker. He gave her a small smile and they headed away from the group of children and toward her office.

"Dad's gonna be upset, huh?" Parker asked quietly as they went

"I believe so, yes," Brennan answered truthfully

Parker looked crestfallen at her agreement, and she didn't know why but she once again felt the urge to reassure him. She knew Booth's outlook on fighting, especially when it came to children, but Brennan also knew that Parker had never lifted a finger against anyone in his life. Besides, he had been standing up for the smaller boy, who was obviously being bullied.

"I can't speak for your father, Parker," She said then, her voice gentle, "But I think that was a very brave thing you did back there."

"You do?" Parker asked sincerely, glancing up at her

"Yes. Standing up for people who are weaker than you, or suffer from some sort of disadvantage or disability, is an admirable trait. Booth may be upset at first, but I think he will understand what you were trying to do."

"I hope so," Parker agreed, but he didn't sound certain

Brennan stopped by the bathroom on their way back to her office and put a few paper towels under the warm water, making sure they were thoroughly soaked before leaving. They made their way back to her office, where she made Parker sit down next to her on the couch. As gently as she could, she wiped the dried blood away until the area around his nose was clean, if slightly red and irritated. Just as she was surveying her handiwork, making sure that she had got it all, Booth came striding into her office.

"Is that blood?" He asked immediately

"Yes," Brennan answered easily

"I'm fine, dad," Parker said at exactly the same time

"You better start explaining, Parker," Booth said sternly, "Quickly."

Brennan listened as Parker replayed the story as quickly as he could for his father, whose face remained impassive throughout the entire tale. Brennan watched him closely, and although his posture remained rigid, she could see the way his brown eyes had begun to soften as his son reached the end of his story.

"Levi's a bully, dad," Parker said firmly, clearly at the end of his story

"I understand that, Parks, but you know how I feel about fighting."

"But, dad!" Parker protested, "Aaron is disabled! He can't stick up for himself, and anyway, aren't you always saying how it's our job to stand up for people that can't stand up for themselves?"

Booth caught the quiet snort that his partner tried to disguise as a small cough, and he glanced away from his son and to where she still sat on her couch. Her face was serious, but her sky blue eyes danced and twinkled with a kind of mirth he had not seen in what felt like ages.

"Using my own words against me now, huh?" Booth asked, but he was not angry, "You're getting too old, Parks. What do you think, Bones?"

"I already told Parker what I thought," She said easily

"She said that you would be upset, because you don't want me to fight, but that what I did was brave," Parker answered, the slightest hint of pride tingeing his young voice

"Did she now," Booth murmured, but he was looking at Brennan

"It's something you would do," She pointed out, shrugging

Booth glanced from his chagrined but defiant son to his partner, who he somehow got the impression was silently laughing at him. He had been defeated by the two of them, but he had no idea how.

"Your mother won't be happy," He said then

"She doesn't have to know," Parker suggested

"We do not lie to your mother, Parker," Booth chided

"I know," Parker said dejectedly, "But she's gonna yell."

"That's not necessarily true," Brennan said quickly, ignoring Booth's gaze and focusing instead on Parker, "You thought your dad was going to be really angry, remember? Just explain it to your mother the way you explained it to us, and her reaction just might surprise you."

"You think so?" Parker asked, hopeful once again

"I do," Brennan said, and she smiled at the hopeful glint in the young boy's eyes, "While I don't have any children myself, if you were my son I would be very proud of you for what you did."

She nearly jumped in surprise when Parker threw his arms around her neck and hugged her fiercely, but she recovered quickly and hugged him in response. She took the opportunity to look at Booth, who was giving her a look of proud wonderment that she had not seen in a very long time. She hoped she had not overstepped her boundaries, but she had meant what she said.

"Thanks, Bones," Parker said as he let her go

"You're welcome, Parker."

"Alright, bud, what do you say we grab some dinner from the diner before we go home?" Booth suggested then, ignoring the way the sight of his son and his partner made his heart swell

"Awesome!" Parker exclaimed, "I'll grab my bag!"

Parker flounced across the office to where he'd dropped his backpack, and Booth threw Brennan a lopsided grin and motioned to the door with a flick of his head.

"Ya coming, Bones?"

"I should stay," She replied, although she wanted to say yes, "I have a few more things to finish."

"I thought you might say that," Booth retorted, still grinning, "So I already have an argument."

"You do?" She questioned in surprise, trying to suppress a smile

"Yep. That stuff can wait. You need dinner with the Booth boys and a good night's rest. C'mon, get your coat. We aren't taking no for an answer, are we, Parks?"

"Nope," The miniature Booth agreed happily

Brennan glanced from one Booth to the other, their smiles so similar that it nearly made her smile just for the sight of it. Dinner did sound pretty good, and hadn't she just been thinking earlier that she never got to spend time with Booth anymore?

"Dinner it is," She said then, rising

* * *

Parker did most of the talking throughout the meal, not that Brennan minded. Parker possessed the same charisma his father did, and whether it was because of his age or his youthful enthusiasm, he seemed to have found a knack for telling stories. The three of them now sat at their table by the window, enjoying milkshakes as they finished their respective plates of food. Parker sat across from her, and Booth next to her, just as they had on several occasions before. This was comfortable to her, an enjoyable end to her evening.

"Dad," Parker said when there was a lull in their conversation

"What, Parks?"

"Will you teach me how to fight?"

Booth nearly choked on his chocolate milkshake in surprise. The question had been asked innocently enough, but his immediate response was a loud and resounding no. He glanced to Bones to gauge her reaction, and she looked just as surprised as he did by his son's request.

"Absolutely not," He said firmly, "Why would you even ask?"

"It's just that … well, Levi's a bully. Next time I see him in school and there's no teacher around, he's gonna beat me up."

"He is?" Brennan asked incredulously, "Are kids really that mean?"

"Levi is," Parker said somberly, "And I won't have any way to protect myself or fight back."

"You know how your mother and I feel about fighting," Booth replied, an echo of his earlier words

"But I'm not the one fighting!" His son protested, "I just wanna be able to protect myself!"

Booth made no immediate reply, and he felt Brennan shift in her seat next to him. He glanced to her for help, but she just shrugged and took another drink of her milkshake.

"It's a reasonable request," She said quietly

"He's just a kid!" Booth protested

"Yes, who wants to protect himself from other kids," She replied

"I am not teaching my nine year old son to fight," He argued

"I didn't say you should," She answered

"Thanks, Bones," He said sarcastically

There was a pause, in which Booth appraised his young son from where he sat across from him. He did not want his son fighting, especially other children – that had not changed. However, he also did not want his son to get beaten up by the school bully, and to come home with a bloody nose or something worse. This was not an easy battle to win; on one hand, he did not want his son to know anything about fighting at such a young age. On the other hand, it seemed that the fighting had been brought to his son regardless, and he had no way to stand up to the other kids. Rebecca would not be happy about what had happened today, and she would be even less thrilled at the idea of Booth teaching their son how to fight.

"Have you ever thought of enrolling Parker in Karate?" Bones asked then

"What?" Booth answered, surprised

"Well, I teach a Karate class for younger children, along with another man, at my dojo. We only teach it twice a week, but anyone can learn it. Karate isn't just about learning how to fight and defend yourself; it also teaches discipline and control."

Parker's eyes had lit up at the idea, but Booth was slower to react. He mulled the idea over for several minutes, trying to imagine what Rebecca's reaction would be to such a suggestion. He wondered if Karate was something Parker would stick with, or if he'd get bored with it in a few weeks and quit going. Then again, there was the added perk of having Bones be one of the teachers for the class; if nothing else, being able to go and know that Bones was there with him might keep Parker more interested and focused.

"Let's talk to your mom about it," Booth said finally, "If she agrees, then we'll look at getting you enrolled in Bones' class, okay?"

"Promise?" Parker gushed

Booth grinned at his son's obvious excitement. "Promise."

"Thanks, Bones!" Parker exclaimed, "You're a great other mom!"

"Other mom?" Brennan repeated, confused

"Yeah, that's what my mom calls 'em," The young boy explained, "But she says other people call them stair moms."

"Do you mean step mom, Parks?" Booth asked, but he was finding it hard to breathe

"Yeah, that's it!"

Brennan felt her heart nearly drop into her stomach, and her cheeks blushed furiously as she realized that Parker obviously thought she was his step mother. The constant ache and weight that had taken up residence in her chest flared to life then, and for just a moment she felt as though she couldn't breathe. Parker thought she was his step mother? The idea that he might see her as such had never crossed her mind; then again, he was only nine years old, and not likely to have a very firm grasp on what exactly the term step mom meant.

"Uh," Brennan cleared her throat, finding that she was oddly loathe to correct the young boy, "I'm not your … 'other mom', Parker."

She tried to keep her voice even and gentle, but as soon as she said the words even her easy tone did not keep Parker from looking at her as if she had suddenly sprouted eight heads and suggested that he was not really a young boy.

"Sure you are," Parker answered easily

"Hannah …" Brennan began, and found she couldn't finish her sentence

"Is Dad's girlfriend," Parker finished for her, "So what?"

He was gazing at her with completely unconcerned innocence, and Brennan found that she suddenly had nothing to say. How on Earth would she even begin to explain all of this to the young Booth sitting across from her? Now that she thought of it, why wasn't Booth trying to help her with all of this?

A quick glance at the man next to her gave her something of an answer. Booth, who was what she felt certain Angela would call thunderstruck, was staring at his son in shocked silence. She didn't know if he was even aware of it, but he had blushed all the way to his hairline. Parker's statement had surprised her, even hurt her heart a little in its childish sincerity, but it had taken her partner completely by storm.

"Who told you about 'other moms', bud," Booth finally managed to ask, avoiding his partner's gaze

"Mom," Parker answered, "She said lots of kids at school have other moms, and even other dads."

"What else did she say?" Booth prompted, resolving right then and there to have a discussion with Rebecca about giving him fair warning about these kinds of things

"She said that Bret is my other dad, just like Bones is my other mom. And that other dads and other moms help real moms and dads take care of the kids, like Bones did today when she cleaned my nose."

Parker, who was obviously proud of his explanation, beamed at the two now thoroughly uncomfortable adults across from him, completely unaware of what had happened. Brennan's highly active mind, which was usually so quick in coming up with arguments and logical points of contention to nearly every statement, was almost utterly befuddled.

"Well, that was …," Brennan tried to find the proper thing to say, daring a small glance at her still surprised counterpart, "A very good explanation, Parker."

"Thanks," The young boy answered, grinning

Booth glanced sidelong at his partner, who seemed at least able to pretend to be at ease once more. When Parker wasn't looking, she looked up and caught his eye. That same defeated look he had seen in her eyes the other night, when she'd asked him to stay and watch a movie, seemed to reach out and engulf him. Why hadn't she insisted on correcting his son? Why hadn't she started to ramble on about what a step mom really was and how it required marriage and blah blah blah? Had she simply recognized that trying to explain something so complicated to a nine year old was a lost cause?

She gave him her best reassuring smile, then glanced back at Parker when he said her name. she missed the look on Booth's face as he watched the two of them interact, and the glistening in his eyes that was very nearly the sheen of tears.


	15. In Pursuit of Happiness

**_Author's Note: Well hello everyone, and Happy Holidays! Hope everyone is enjoying themselves. :) So let me just start off by saying that I wasn't going to do this yet - I had planned for this to be a later chapter, but my plans kind of changed a little bit. We are nearing the end of this little journey - I only have about two or three more chapters planned, and the later chapters just work better if this chapter happens first. And besides, it just made me feel so good to write it! I look forward to hearing what you guys think, as always, and I appreciate the wonderful response I've gotten to this story! So without further adieu, happy reading!_**

* * *

_Cause it's almost like_

_Your heaven's trying everything_

_To break me down_

_Cause it's almost like_

_Your heaven's trying everything_

_To keep me out._

_~Far From Home, Five Finger Death Punch_

* * *

Brennan had only just finished cleaning her apartment and hopped out of the shower when a knock on her door alerted her to a visitor. She glanced at her clock: she had promised to meet Angela for lunch, but it was barely ten in the morning. A few months ago, she would have hazarded a guess that it was Booth on the other side of her door, but not now. Not now that things had changed so completely, not now that Hannah was in the picture and the partners went days without talking to each other.

She threw on the clothes she had already laid out in a jumble, pulling her wet hair up into a haphazard ponytail to keep it from soaking through her shirt. The person behind the door knocked again, and she scampered down the hall to get it.

Flinging the door open, Brennan was neatly surprised to see none other than Angela on the other side of her door, grinning in that sly way that sometimes made Brennan worry. Even more surprising was the thing Angela was gripping in one hand: a small, tan plastic box that very clearly said PET TAXI across the back.

"Hi Sweetie!" Angela greeted brightly, pushing past her friend into the living room

"Hi, Ange," Brennan replied, closing the door and following the other woman, "What is that?"

Angela turned to face her best friend, setting the pet carrier gently down on the carpet as she did so. She could see the doubt already tingeing Brennan's expression, but she ignored it and smiled widely.

"You know I worry about you, right, Sweetie?" Angela said by way of answer, "You spend too much time at the lab, and you come home to an empty apartment, and … well … I don't like it."

"Ange, I don't have time to take care of an animal," Brennan informed her

"Just hear me out, okay? You could use a little companionship. You'll love him – trust me."

"Him?" Brennan repeated, trying to quell her curiosity

Angela just grinned and bent down, swinging the small metal door open. She reached inside and pulled out a very large Siamese cat, with wide blue eyes and a fluffy coat of fur.

"Bren, meet Gabe," Angela introduced, bringing him to her and holding him out for her to take

Against her better judgment, Brennan reached out and took the offered feline. He was very soft, and she cradled him against her chest with one hand while she stroked his black and brown hair with the other. Within moments, Gabe was purring contentedly against her, eyes closed in relaxation.

"See, you two have hit it off great!" Angela exclaimed happily, petting the sleeping cat

"What gave you this idea?" Brennan asked, one eyebrow arched at the other woman

"He's a house warming gift. Well, an early one anyway. Cats are pretty self-sufficient, and he'll be fine while you're at work. They're easy to take care of and relatively clean, so he won't be a hassle."

"Where did you find him?"

"That's the best part, Sweetie! He's a rescue. I went on a search of the local shelters the other day, after you told me about everything that happened with Booth."

"A rescue?" Brennan said, glancing down at the fully grown and docile cat in her arms and feeling suddenly sad for him

"Jack suggested a kitten at first, but I thought this would be better."

"Why?" She queried

For the first time since she had come over, Angela looked a little nervous.

"Well… you know, I figured since you spent time in the system, without a family, and … isn't that kinda what a pet shelter is? A place for cats with nowhere else to go? I thought you might like the symbology of it … ya know, the whole adoption thing …"

Angela's words trailed off when her friend remained completely silent, and for the first time since she'd had the idea the artist wondered if she had overstepped some line she had not known existed. She sincerely hoped that she hadn't just offended her best friend, especially after everything that she'd been through lately ….

"That's … very sweet, Ange," Brennan said then, tears thickening her voice

"Really?" Angela asked uncertainly, "I mean, I didn't offend you or anything?"

Brennan crossed the small gap and hugged her best friend with one arm, the other still supporting the gently purring cat in her arms.

"I'm touched," She told her, "And he's great. Really."

The two women smiled at each other. Brennan moved toward her couch and set the cat gently down on the soft material, and he looked up at her as if he couldn't believe that she would put him down.

"Gabe, huh?"

"I like it," Angela jumped in, "Very distinguished."

"He is a very beautiful animal," Brennan agreed, looking away from him to her friend

"So hey, I figured that we could hit the pet store and pick up all the necessaries for him, then hit this great little Mexican place for lunch. Sound good?"

"Would you mind if I took a moment, finished getting ready?"

"Take your time, Sweetie. Jack knows not to expect me home any time soon."

Brennan smiled in response to the genuinely enthused look on her best friend's face. As she padded back to her bedroom, she fought the urge to shake her head in disbelief. She was now the proud owner of a very large, very fluffy feline.

A very strange start to her day.

* * *

Booth couldn't say what the catalyst was. One minute he was sitting on his couch, watching some sappy chick flick that he would never publicly admit to having watched of his own accord, when Brennan's words floated back to him of their own accord. The main character in the movie had just said something about the fleeting nature of life and emotion, when suddenly Booth heard his partner's voice, clear as day, reverberate in his mind. _You made me all the promises – except that one_. They'd been in the middle of yelling at each other, and although he'd heard her, he had been unable to make heads or tails of that confession. Only now, on a Saturday evening as he sat alone in his apartment, did the words truly catch up with him.

She had been absolutely certain that he did not love her. He'd heard the belief and conviction in her voice when she'd told Hannah that he was not in love with her, but he'd been so blindsided by everything that had happened … the implications that were only now becoming clear were monumental. The only time he had ever told Temperance Brennan that he loved her, he'd panicked and added that stupid quantifier: "In an atta girl kinda way". Not much later, he'd tried to gamble it all – but he'd never told her he loved her. He'd never corrected himself, never told her that he loved her in every single way, right down the very core of his being. Those words, the sad and shaky timbre of her voice when she'd pointed out that he didn't love her … he knew, somehow, that if only he had said those words, that night outside the Hoover would have ended differently. Things may not have ended exactly as he'd wanted, but they would have ended differently, and probably better. She might have taken it better, she might have needed time to think, but she would have known. She would have known that he wanted to be with her because he truly, honestly loved her; instead, she thought that he had been pursuing her out of some kind of misplaced desire. Oh, why hadn't he said those words!

Seeley Booth practically vaulted from his couch, nearly upending the open beer on his coffee table. He scrambled for socks and shoes, throwing them on without actually paying attention to what he was doing. He was going over there, _now_, and he would figure everything out when he got there. Uncertainty, advice, everything else be damned; he was going to tell her everything, he was going to come clean about Hannah's departure and his realization about how he screwed up and he was going to _fix_ this!

He made the dash from his apartment to his car without knowing that he was actually moving – the drive to her apartment was equally forgettable. His mind was reeling, running back and forth between all the things he needed to say and the best way to say them and trying to guess what reactions she would have. He pointedly ignored the niggling voice in the back of his mind that told him nothing would change, that this was all going to backfire on him and he was going to end up straining their already tenuous relationship past the point of no return. He was sick of this game, sick of feeling like they were always missing their moment or strafing left when they should have gone right.

He stood in front of her apartment door, his heart suddenly thundering in his ears. He was really here, he was really going to do this; this was his last chance to turn back. He could change his mind, decide to give them more time and just turn and drive back home. He could do all of those things, but he wasn't going to.

Booth knocked, his fist hitting the closed door with more force than he'd intended. He strained to listen for the padded footfalls that meant her approach, and for one terrible moment he thought she might not be home, and that fate itself was going to foil him. The moment passed quickly, and Bones was swinging the door open seconds later. She looked radiant (when didn't she look radiant to him?), dressed simply in a pair of grey yoga pants and pale blue t-shirt, her dark hair pulled into a ponytail.

"Booth?" She asked in surprise, "Is everything alright?"

"Can I come in?" He asked

"Sure," She said and stepped aside to let him in

He took two long strides and found himself in the middle of her living room. He turned to face her, watching as she closed the door and then made her way toward him. He had loved Hannah, enjoyed every moment they'd spent together, but never had it been like this for him. Standing across from her, watching Temperance Brennan walk toward him, he felt as if he'd come _home._ This was right; this was everything he wanted. He'd never had this feeling with Hannah, this underlying sense of everything being right in the world as long as they were moving _toward_ each other. That nagging voice in the back of his mind fell silent then, because this was right. This was where he was supposed to be, and even if he hadn't given them long enough or he was jumping the gun, he didn't care. They'd had enough of missing their moment – if he had to, he would _make_ this their moment.

"What's wrong, Booth?" She asked as she came to stand before him, "You look agitated."

"Listen, Bones," He began, taking a deep breath and raking his hand through his hair, "I have a lot to say, and it would be really helpful if you'd just let me get it all out without … I dunno, cutting me off. Or worse, kicking me out."

"Kicking you out? I've never kicked you out of my apartment, Booth," She pointed out, and he could see that she was confused

"Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything," He muttered

"Okay, you're starting to worry me, Booth. What's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong," He said emphatically, stepping toward her, "The whole world is wrong, as long as we stay like this."

"I don't understand. Stay like what?" Her blue eyes were alarmed now

Booth tried to steady his thunderous heartbeat, but it refused to slow down. He was nervous, terrified of what the beautiful woman across from him was going to do once he'd divulged his truths, but he refused to back down. He was here, to give this and them everything he had, and whatever came of it, well … that would be the truth of it, he guessed. If she refused him then, after he'd finally done and said all the things that he possibly could to make her see his side of things, then he had truly lost.

"Like this," He explained, motioning between them, "Always apart. Circling each other, close enough we barely even have to move to be touching, and both of us too afraid to do anything."

"What?"

"I was wrong last year. I was wrong to ask you to gamble."

"I know, Booth," She told him, and she looked so sad that it made his heart skip a beat

"No, you don't. I was wrong to rush you, wrong to demand an answer and then tell you I was moving on when I didn't like what the answer was. I know that now. There were so many things I could have done better, but I was so hurt that I just closed it all off."

"Why are you bringing all this up?" Brennan asked then, and he could see that she was frightened, "This is all in the past, Booth, it doesn't matter. What's done is done …"

"It does matter, Bones. You said you wanted to work on us – this _is_ us. And I know you're scared, I can see it in your face, and that's okay. But I need you to listen to me, I need you to listen to what I have to say without trying to run . Will you do that, for me?"

"Of course I'll listen," She shot back, but he could hear the edge in her voice

"I know you're surprised, Bones, and this doesn't make sense yet, but just trust me. Trust that I'm telling you the truth, and that these are some of the most important things I've ever said. Okay?"

"Okay," She answered softly

Standing there, watching the woman he and his entire family loved steel herself to hear she could only guess at what, Booth sent up a fervent prayer. _Please, God, let her listen._

* * *

A million different scenarios flitted across her mind in quick succession, bleeding from one idea to another as seamlessly as liquid. Whatever Booth had come to tell her, it was obviously the reason for his agitation. His chocolate eyes shone and sparkled as they caught the light, animating his otherwise serious expression. She could not fathom what had brought him here, or what had been so important that he had obviously drove immediately over here to tell her. She dreaded that he would tell her that he had proposed to Hannah, or perhaps that they were moving out of D.C., or some equally unbearable news that she would try and accept graciously.

"I was wrong to make you think that I wanted to take a gamble on us. I should have never made it seem like we were a gamble; we've never been a gamble. In the almost seven years that we've been together, there's one thing that has never changed. We're a sure thing, Bones."

"There's no such thing as a 'sure thing'," She argued

"Yes, there is, and it's us. You are a constant in my life, Bones, no matter what. You've been there for me through everything: you were the one who rescued me from that ship, when I thought I was going to die; you were the one who convinced me that seeing cartoon babies was not a good sign. And even in my coma dream, Bones, you were there. Even Parker, even my nine year old son knows that you're always there."

"We're partners, Booth, it's what we do. Anyone would do the same …"

"No they wouldn't. And that's not the point – the point is, I was wrong to tell you that I wanted to gamble, but I wasn't wrong to tell you that I wanted more. I meant what I said, Temperance – I'm that guy. And I knew – I've always known."

He took a step toward her, and Brennan took a step back automatically. Her hands had begun to shake again, and she felt the first prickling of tears behind her eyes. This was too much; she couldn't do this again, she couldn't face the reality and the let down she knew were coming. Especially now, especially when she knew that she couldn't give them what they both wanted. Because she knew now, had known for some time, that she had been wrong to tell him no all those months ago. She'd been wrong not to give them a chance; after all, she had nothing to lose. But she'd missed her chance, and he didn't really love her the way she wanted him to, and now he was going to torture her with all the pretty words her deceitful heart yearned to hear.

"You should go home," She managed to murmur, "Go home, Booth, home to Hannah."

"You said you wouldn't kick me out," He reminded her, and his familiar voice dropped ever so slightly, "And there is no Hannah. Not anymore."

Her eyes snapped to his as his words settled in, and she felt her breath hitch in her chest. No Hannah? What exactly was going on here?

"What do you mean, no Hannah?" She inquired

"Hannah's been gone for weeks," He said calmly, "Since we had that fight in your office."

"You didn't say anything," She said, her tone slightly accusing

"Because I knew you would think that the only reason I was coming around was because I was lonely, and that's not true. In fact, it couldn't be farther from the truth."

"None of this makes sense," She said then, shaking her head as if the movement would clear it

"I'm here to make things right, Bones. I'm here to tell you that I know I made a mistake – hell, lots of mistakes – and I want to fix it. You said you couldn't change, that you didn't know how, and here's the thing: I don't want you to change, Bones. I want you, all of you, exactly the way you are."

"But I'm awkward," She argued, and she wasn't sure if she was arguing for or against herself, "I'm awkward and I'm not a people person and … and I don't get your pop culture references."

The tears had begun to fall, and that ever present weight had ripped a hole in her heart. Her brain was arguing, but her wounded heart was responding to what he was saying and she was doing her best to quell the hope that was trying to fester. This was not going to happen; they would never work, and she knew it. She was not a heart person or a romantic, or even someone who believed in the transcendence of love. They were just too different, in too many ways, and her heart was crushing itself under its own weight to have to stand here and turn down the man she now knew was the one she wanted above all others.

"And I love all those things about you. And for all of that, you're also beautiful, and loyal, and you have such a big heart, Bones. You're devoted and determined and honest, and so many other things that I could talk myself blue in the face and not have said them all."

"Your face can't actually turn blue," She answered, but it was only a defense mechanism

But Booth laughed, and he used her uncertainty to take another step closer, and the warm and distinctly masculine smell of him assaulted her senses. Hannah was gone … had been gone for awhile, and he hadn't said anything. She thought about that night he'd sat and watched Beauty and the Beast with her; she thought about how she felt like the Beast, this guarded and secretive creature that people went out of their way to avoid. Well, not Booth. Even at their lowest moments, he'd always come back.

"I want you for who you are, Temperance – awkwardness and all. And I can say, without doubt or reservation, that I will love you just as much fifty years down the line as I do now."

"You're vulnerable," Brennan explained, but she was talking mostly to herself, "You're hurt because Hannah left and you just need comfort …"

"Is that really what you think of me?" He asked, and he sounded hurt

"No!" She cried then, and that hole in her heart exploded and she was crying forcefully now, "I think that you're brave and honorable and stubborn. I think that you're the only person that I trust implicitly, and I think … I think that I love you, and it breaks my heart!"

She glared at him, willing the tears to stop in their tracks as they raced down her cheeks. She wanted to be angry at him, she wanted to make him leave and pretend this night had never happened, but mostly she wanted that weight and the hole in her heart to go away.

She was off guard, and he closed the small gap between them quicker than she could move. One strong arm circled her waist, and a warm hand cupped her wet cheek. He brushed the tears away with the soft sweeping of his thumb, and when she looked up she felt as if her breath had been stolen. He was watching her with one of the gentlest expressions she had ever seen, and there was no mockery or doubt in his face. She thought of struggling, but he felt so _good_ and she'd missed the closeness of him …

"I love you," He whispered then, and she did stop breathing, "Do you hear me, Temperance? I love you."

He kissed her then, and the very feel of his lips seemed to banish the weight around her heart. With every second that passed her heart responded, the hole sealing itself like a flame as it raced along a line of gasoline. Her mind flashed on the last time he had kissed her, the time when she had pushed him away and insisted that she was not what he wanted. She could do the same now, but she knew that she wouldn't. She wanted this, she wanted the chance to see where they went and if, despite all the reasons that they shouldn't be able to, they could make it work. She wasn't strong enough to deny Seeley Booth twice – and they felt so right.

She broke the kiss first, her lungs burning for their lack of air. He smiled at her, that small secretive smile that she'd always secretly loved, and she buried her face in his shoulder. She counted to twenty, allowing herself to catch her breath before facing him again.

"I know I gave you plenty of reasons not to believe me, Bones," He said quietly, "And I know how you love proof, and evidence. Just give me the chance – let me prove to you how sincere I am. Let me give you the evidence that I love you, that I'm in it for the long haul."

"Everything is such a mess," She replied, just as quietly, "There's still so many things I don't understand. I don't even know if this will work … I'm still a scientist, Booth."

"I know that, Bones. I'm not asking for promises, or anything that you aren't willing to give. I'm asking for a chance. We can clean up the mess together."

Her heart hammered against her rib cage as if it were trying to leap from her chest. Her thoughts were turbid and unrecognizable, unable to keep up with everything that had transpired. Here was her partner, the only man who had proven to be a constant in her life, a touchstone no matter where she was or how bad she felt. He was standing there, asking her plainly for a chance that she had sworn they had missed, and she was at war. This couldn't possibly work; after everything that they'd been through, after the literal years of toeing the line, how could they adjust?

"Bones?" He prodded

"What?"

"The heart is a muscle, so it can't actually break. It can only be crushed."

"What?" She asked again, her expression puzzled

Booth couldn't resist a quiet laugh, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before hooking a finger under her chin and tilting her face up to his.

"You said that I break your heart, but that's impossible according to you."

"Don't be flippant with me," She warned, but there was no malice in her voice, "I was using a colloquialism. I know how fond you are of them."

Booth laughed again, and despite the gravity of the situation, Brennan couldn't suppress a small smile.

"Tell you what, Bones. I know I've given you a lot to think about, and I can see the gears in that genius brain of yours trying to work. How about we just … relax and watch a movie? I'll even cook dinner if you want. And I promise, you can ask me any question you can think of, and I'll answer it as honestly as I can. What do you say?"

She regarded him quietly, neither of them having moved from the close embrace they were in now. He had blindsided her with all of this, and he knew it. Unlike last time, however, he was consciously giving her time to think about it, to gather her thoughts before she made her decision. He was willing to give her his argument that they should be together, and then wait as long as it took for her to come to a conclusion. The act made her heart swell, because she knew that he must be anxious; waiting was not something he'd ever been particularly fond of. Still, he was ready and willing to wait for her.

"How about we order pizza instead?" She suggested

Booth grinned what he was certain was a fool's grin, but he didn't care. She wasn't going to throw him out; she had recognized that he was trying to make up for what had happened last time, and that he wasn't going to rush her into anything. He'd presented her with his evidence, and now he was going to wait until she'd made her decision. No pushing, no impatience.

"Pizza sounds good," He agreed

"Good. But first, I want you to meet Gabe."

She wiggled out of his arms and disappeared into her bedroom, and Booth felt suddenly horrified. Gabe? Was someone else here, had she been on some sort of date? The idea made him want to bite his tongue in half in consternation. The idea that he had just barged in here and poured out his heart while there was someone else – a stranger – listening in from the other room made his breath almost freeze. He hadn't even asked her if she was busy, or if they were alone, and now he desperately wished he had.

When she emerged from her bedroom, however, Booth felt first relieved and then very confused; Bones was smiling, her arms full of a nondescript black and brown bundle.

"This is Gabe," She introduced when she'd gotten close enough

A head that he hadn't seen before turned away from the crook of her arm and two large, clear blue eyes focused on him in what he would almost call cold calculation. Gabe was a cat – a gigantic walking hairball of a cat, but a cat nonetheless.

"When did you get a cat, Bones?" He asked, reaching out a hand to pet him

"Angela got him for me. She said he was an early house warming present, because she didn't like that I was always alone."

"That was very thoughtful of her," He answered, listening as the cat began to purr

Booth made no comment about the house debacle that they still had to deal with. Bones had been right when she said that everything was a mess, but he knew that they had time. They could figure it all out as they went; provided, of course, that Bones' answer was the one he hoped it would be. Even if it wasn't, he would still help her sort out as much of it as she would allow him to, because Temperance Brennan would always be a part of his life, no matter what the role.

"You pick the movie, I'll call for pizza?" He suggested then

Brennan smiled at him, a small but encouraging act that gave him hope.

"No meat," She reminded him, moving into the living room

"I know, Bones," He retorted, but he was smiling


	16. Iridescence

**_Author's Note: Here we are, the final chapter! I think this is the shortest chapter I wrote for this story, lol. Let me take a minute to say that you guys have been wonderful, and your constant reviews and support have been phenomenal! This is by far one of the best (and longest) stories I've ever written, and I'm SOO glad that you guys warmed up to it like you did. You all rock my frikkin socks off. Also, I know there are several things in here that have not been dealt with, and there's a reason for that. There's going to be a sequel! Yup yup. I should be posting the first chapter(s) soon, so I hope no one is too burnt out to keep an eye out for it, and continue this little journey with me! Again, thank you for all your reviews and alerts and the like, and I hope to see you again soon!_**

* * *

_When you were standing in the wake of devastation_  
_When you were waiting on the edge of the unknown_  
_With the cataclysm raining down_  
_Your insides crying, "Save me now"_  
_You were there, impossibly alone._

_Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?_  
_You build up hope, but failure is all you've known._  
_Remember all the sadness and frustration_  
_And let it go._  
_Let it go._

_And in a burst of light that blinded every angel_  
_As if the sky had blown the heavens into stars_  
_You felt the gravity of tempered grace_  
_Falling into empty space_  
_With no one there to catch you in their arms._

_Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?_  
_You build up hope, but failures all you've known._  
_Remember all the sadness and frustration_  
_And let it go._  
_Let it go._

_~Iridescent, Linkin Park_

* * *

There had really only ever been one answer, although it frightened her immensely in its layered meaning. She had taken several days to think it over, to really let the weight of everything that she was about to embark upon make itself known to her; she had done a lot of what Booth would call soul searching. He'd spent all of that Saturday evening with her, watching movies and patiently answering her ridiculously long line of questions until well into the wee hours of the morning. When he'd finally stood to leave, it was only at her insistence that although she needed time to think, she was not going to ignore him or disappear inexplicably. In a brave and impromptu gesture that surprised both of them, he'd stopped when he was halfway out the door and given her another kiss, more chaste than the first, and then simply smiled and disappeared down the hallway.

The next few days – the next week, actually – she fought between focusing on her work and the recent developments in her personal life. Booth stopped by a few times, and every time he did she noted that he acted no different around her. Well, no different than he had before Afghanistan, anyway; his behavior had reverted back entirely to how it had been before either of them had ever left. Although she knew that Hannah had been real, and that they still had to deal with and address her aftermath, it was now as if those several months had been a brief and nightmarish interlude in their intertwined lives. She was happy to note that Booth seemed perfectly capable of separating a private life with her from a work life with her, and she found that knowledge reassuring. Their partnership was, and always would be, one of the utmost important things in her life. She had to believe that it could withstand anything, because they were the center, and their partnership the foundation for that center. Hannah had been a test, she was slowly coming to believe, a test for more things than just their partnership. She had not acceded to that belief aloud, however, especially to Booth; she knew that he would somehow attribute the test as being sent from his fictional God, an assumption that she would have to correct and thus one of their arguments on religion would begin – and that was the last thing she needed right now.

Although she'd fought with herself over the decision at first, Brennan had concluded that she would tell no one of what had transpired between herself and Booth – at least, not yet. She needed to know that the decision was completely hers, without any outside influence or persuasive arguments from Angela or her father or anyone else closely associated with her or them. She had to be certain, on her own, that she was truly ready for what she was about to do.

The week having been spent in such serious repose, and her brain pitting caution and reason against the hope and excitement her heart supplied until the two met in an orchestra of discordant sounds, she was not surprised when Friday night found her heart hammering in excitement as she knocked on Booth's door.

The heavy piece of wood swung open before her, revealing a smiling Seeley Booth on the other side.

"Hey, Bones," He greeted, standing aside and motioning her in, "Did you bring the food?"

"Of course I did," She shot back, smiling as she passed him on the way to his kitchen

Booth closed the door and followed the delicious smell of Thai food into the kitchen, where Brennan was already setting out the different take out boxes. He grabbed plates and silverware, then turned and reached both arms around her to set them on the table. He fought back a grin as her mouth turn up slightly at the corners, then moved away from her and delved into the fridge.

"Beer?" He asked

"With Thai?" She queried

"Sure, why not?" He responded, grabbing two from the shelf

"As long as it's not that terrible Flat Tire you tried to get me to drink last time," She chided

"It's 'Fat Tire', Bones, and what do you mean terrible? Fat Tire is delicious!"

"Perhaps some of your taste buds have died from bad taste," She mused, and he laughed

He set both bottles on the table and opened hers first, handing it to her with a flourish. She'd already dished out their food, and he couldn't help but smile at the way she knew exactly what to put on his plate, and how much of each.

"Here," She said, handing her beer back, "You bring the beer, I'll get the plates."

They made their way into the living room, and Brennan deposited both plates on the coffee table absent mindedly as her attention was drawn to the television.

"What were you watching?" She questioned as he settled into the couch next to her

"Nothing, I was getting it ready."

"Ready for what?"

"We're gonna work on your movie education, Bones."

"I don't know what that means," She responded

Booth smiled in that same foolish way that he couldn't seem to control, remarking silently to himself on how unbearably adorable this woman was. Could he get away with calling a genius adorable? He didn't care, it was true.

"We're watching Pretty Woman," He told her instead, "It's a classic. Well, kinda. It's not really old enough to be considered a true classic, but still. Just watch, you'll see."

Booth hit the play button on the remote, and the screen flared to life as they settled into the cushions and began to eat. Brennan wanted to chide herself for feeling giddy in a way that she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before, but it was such a nice change from the weight she'd felt only a week ago that she resisted the urge. Was this what a relationship with Booth was going to feel like? Comfortable, yet almost unbearably exciting?

"Booth?" She asked after about ten minutes

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Do you really want to do this?"

He didn't have to ask what she meant. Instead, he leaned forward to put his now empty plate back on the coffee table and half turned in his seat to face her. Years of reading the subtle emotions that played over her face told him that she was nervous, perhaps even frightened, and he recognized her question as the vocal manifestation of doubt that it was.

"Yeah, Bones," He said gently, "I really want to do this."

"What if it doesn't work?" She asked quietly

"It'll work. This is us we're talking about here – separately, we're both great at everything we do. Together, well, we're the original dynamic duo."

"But what if it doesn't?" She insisted

He smiled softly, in that reassuring way that he had learned long ago she seemed to respond well to, and couldn't resist brushing his fingers across the porcelain skin of her cheek.

"If it doesn't work, then we'll go back to being friends, and partners."

"You believe that?"

"I do, Bones, but it won't matter."

"Because this – us – we'll work," She finished

"Exactly. We'll always be the center, Bones. We're just gonna build on it a little, that's all."

She stayed silent for several minutes, mulling over all that he'd said as she sat next to him on his couch. She couldn't say why, but his reassurances that everything would be okay made her feel more secure in her decision. He was right, of course, and she believed it too or she would never be agreeing to this. They had spent six years moving forward together, continually moving toward each other, and then suddenly spent several months merely stagnating. There was nowhere for them to go except upward and forward, and she found that she was not only ready, but excited to keep going.

"So what do ya say, Bones," He prompted, bumping her knee gently with his own, "Are you gonna give me a chance to prove I'm right?"

His warm brown eyes were shining with that hopeful glint that she'd discovered a long time ago she couldn't resist, and she felt her lips lifting upward in a wide smile. She leaned across the small gap that separated them and kissed him, first softly and then with ever growing passion, until she felt certain she was drowning in the ocean that was Seeley Booth. When she finally pulled away, the foolish grin was once again lighting her partner's face. She gave an answering smile, although hers was softer and more secretive, and she felt a lightness of spirit that she had not felt in longer than she could try to remember.

"I think that sounds like an agreeable pursuit," She nearly purred

"I was hoping you'd say that," He replied, and they were kissing again almost before she could blink

"Booth?" She murmured after a long minute

"Hmm?" He hummed as he finally left off his adoration of her mouth

"Can we wait awhile to tell anyone? It's just … I'd like a little time to adjust myself before Angela, or anyone else for that matter, tries to fry me for information."

"You mean 'grill' you for information, Bones," Booth corrected mid laugh, "And you can take all the time you want."

She smiled warmly in response, and they settled into a more comfortable position on the couch with Brennan leaning back against his chest to restart the forgotten movie.

"Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"You're not going to start calling me baby, are you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, babe."

She laughed and slapped his broad chest playfully, and his answering laugh made his whole body ripple beneath her. Temperance Brennan's chest expanded as a contentment with every aspect of her life flooded every dark corner of her once hidden heart. She'd had no way of knowing, all those months ago when she'd turned down his first offer, that she would get a second chance. She'd resigned herself to having lost something she'd been unaware she wanted, and right as she'd given up completely that it would ever be hers, the universe threw her a metaphorical curve ball. In all the years that they'd been together, if there had ever been a time when Brennan would have sent a silent thank you to Booth's fictional God, now would be it.

Instead, she snuggled closer into a chest that was undeniably hers, despite its location on another human being, and smiled to herself as she closed her eyes. She resigned herself to ask him about pictures on the refrigerator in the morning, and whether or not he'd be willing to spend an entire day proving to her that two people could create a miracle through making love, and it was with these thoughts that she fell blissfully asleep, cradled in the arms of the only man she'd ever loved.

* * *

_**Iridescent (adj): **_

_**displaying a spectrum of colours that shimmer and change due to interference and scattering as the observer's position changes.**_


End file.
